


of flowers and fireflies

by elletromil, InsaneRedDragon



Series: bound by little things [1]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Familiar Eggsy, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Wizard Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-07 17:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 43,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11063715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/pseuds/elletromil, https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneRedDragon/pseuds/InsaneRedDragon
Summary: “You're trying to tell me that you're my dog?”“Well, yes. Though I’d rather you say familiar if you don’t mind.”“That’s… That’s impossible. The spell didn’t work.”--Eggsy is a familiar. For many human lifetimes, familiars live waiting for a call from one of the populations magic users. During their time of waiting, they seek out magical sanctuaries for their kind. Eggsy and Lee are on their way to one such place when tragedy strikes, and only Eggsy makes it to his new home at the Hart estate sanctuary.Merlin is a magic user. After the death of his family, Merlin is taken in by the Hart family on their estate. It’s there, growing up beside Harry, that he first learns of his magical abilities and struggles with growing up without the support of a magical family.Even though their paths cross while growing up on the estate, it isn’t until many years later when Merlin performs a summoning for a familiar that they connect. A friendship grows to something more while the two learn to navigate their newly formed bond.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hepcatliz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hepcatliz/gifts).



>   
>    
> 
> 
> This story is dedicated to the ever wonderful [hepcatliz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hepcatliz/pseuds/hepcatliz). Liz was not only a huge contributor to the original idea this fic was based on, but has been nothing but supportive of the many stories we've both had. It's the highlight of our days when we get a comment from Liz on our work. We hope you thoroughly enjoy this fic, darling!
> 
> Also, many thanks to the multi-talented [anarchycox](http://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchycox/pseuds/anarchycox) for the beautiful photo manips she made for this fic. The story is so much richer with her work.

There was a time when he had no name, but had a whole family. Parents that cared for him and siblings to play with.

But even back then he had known that somehow he was _different_.

It had felt like something was _missing_ and that in itself had been enough to set him apart. Not that he had been excluded in any way, but whenever they would be out and about, he would fall behind and _look_ , not caring that he had no idea what he was searching for.

Then he had met Lee and the bigger dog had not been what he felt _drawn_ to, but he had felt more _familiar_ than his brothers and sisters, than his father and mother.

So when Lee had gestured with his head for him to follow, he had done so without a look back to his former family.

He has a name now, _Eggsy_ , and Lee cares for him and plays with him as if Eggsy were his own pup.

On the outside they look very different, two different breeds as Lee had explained to him once, but they are very much the same in the ways that count. Lee has been searching for something that’s been _missing_ all his life, for so long now that everything he knew when he was a pup himself has changed beyond recognition a long time ago.

Only the deepest parts of the forest ever stay the same, even if year after year that territory shrinks slowly but inexorably to be replaced by towns and villages. It isn’t quite the sanctuary it once was, many of those beings like Lee and himself having left already, leaving only the ancients souls, the ones that have forgotten what set them apart. They aren’t _looking_ anymore, they’ve even stopped _waiting_.

Eggsy finds their company _chilling_ , wrong somehow and the more he urges Lee to leave the confines of the forest’s heart, to explore while following that invisible thread leading them _somewhere_ , the more Lee agrees with him.

It’s why they decide to go for it when the badger they meet by chance on one of their little excursions shares with them the secret of a new sanctuary, a safe haven for beings like them. Of course, Lee is hesitant at first, after hearing that they’ll have to learn to cohabitate with humans, but Eggsy’s insistence convinces him in the end. He might be just a pup compared to Lee’s numerous years, even if he hasn’t looked like one in a very long time, but his instincts have yet to fail them. If he thinks they should leave and learn to adapt, Lee is willing to at least try for him.

Those like Eggsy, like Lee and that badger, those that feel so _familiar_ despite never having met before, despite being from completely different species whatsoever, have another thing in common besides that incomplete feeling to their very soul. Somehow, they’re _lucky_.

It feels as if something bigger than themselves is protecting them in some way, guiding their steps.

It may no longer be true for the ancient ones, for those who have forgotten, but Lee and Eggsy encounter very little hardship on their way to the new sanctuary. The most difficult part is when Lee doesn’t remember why they’ve decided to follow that path instead of staying where it was once safe. But as they are nearing the outskirts of the forest, as they are nearing the humans’ estate, those spells of his happen less and less.

One evening, he even confides to Eggsy that he’s no longer merely feeling _drawn_ towards what was missing, but _called_ to it.

The next day, and the ones following, there is a restlessness to him that make him stop at night only because Eggsy insists on it.

They’re _lucky_ , but they aren’t _invincible_.

They may have no idea what truly makes them _different_ , but some humans _do_. And humans can be so very dangerous.

Lee has been running ahead, but he’s grown careless since a bee told them how very close they were now. The trap is well-hidden and the markings on it are enough to make Eggsy feel sick when he tries to help Lee out of it. But the metal teeth are biting deep into his leg and the pain alone would make it hard for Lee to think. The power of the markings make it _impossible_.

Too soon, they can hear people coming in the distance and everything in them is screaming for them to _run_. But Eggsy cannot leave Lee. He’s the only family he has left.

He’s getting ready to fight, to protect him no matter the cost, when Lee has a moment of clarity through the debilitating pain and confusion.

_Leave. Run. You can’t help._

He wants to protest, but he knows Lee’s right. Already, he can hear too many voices calling out excitedly that they’ve _finally caught one_ and it’s not hard to figure out he’ll be sorely outmatched if he stays.

_Go Eggsy. Run._

Eggsy does and the sight of Lee valiantly growling at the poachers fast approaching becomes his last memory of him.

Eggsy runs.

He runs and runs, until he can’t anymore, until he collapses on the ground and thinks he’ll never get up again. It wouldn’t be so bad, he thinks, there in the cool shade of the trees. It would be better if it wasn’t for the sparrow chirping worriedly in his ears, but he feels too weak to tell her to go away.

Yet, even if he does nothing to chase her away, she doesn’t stay for very long and Eggsy feels strangely dejected. He’s never been alone before.

But she’s back before he’s caught his breath, a young woman following after her. At the sight of the human, at the reminder of what just happened, of the father he’s lost to mindless cruelty, he starts growling and tries to rise, but he’s still shaking from exhaustion.

The young woman doesn’t try to come close however, simply takes a look at him and, after an exclamation of sympathy, runs towards the house he can see in the distance.

She returns not long after with food and water, but doesn’t try to approach, doesn’t try to touch him. No, she seems content to simply watch over him with warm brown eyes, smiling in relief when he starts eating at the sparrow’s urging.

She ends up sitting on the ground, as if she has nothing better to do, and when Eggsy wakes up from a nap he had had no intention of taking, she hasn’t moved from her silent vigil.

The sparrow flies back from her knee to the top of Eggsy’s head and the young woman giggles happily at the tableau they must make.

“You should be fine now. You’ll be well looked after, I’m sure,” she nods at the sparrow, the bird puffing her chest proudly. “Welcome to your new home.”

She leaves not long after as the night starts falling and he thinks she’s probably right.

This _will_ be home now, if only because every one of his instincts tell him to _wait_.

The sparrow never leaves his side during the night. It is only come morning that he realises she is like him, like _Lee_ had been.

She introduces herself, Michelle she says her name is, as she is picking at Eggsy’s fur with a gentle beak, completely unbothered by his attempts to shake her off. She is determined to see him clean and if he won’t do it himself, _she_ certainly will.

He feels curious eyes on him as the other inhabitants of the surrounding woods start waking up and going about their day, but unlike Michelle who is unimpressed by his low growling, everyone else keeps their distance.

The humans of the estate also seem entirely happy to leave them all be, even if Eggsy notices pretty quickly that neither the humans nor the animals shy away from contact whenever they come upon each other by chance.

He doesn’t understand how that can be, even after Michelle explains how the Harts have welcomed all the familiars on their grounds for generations now. Humans are still dangerous and unpredictable, _cruel_ , and he whines at the memory of Lee standing brave and strong to meet his end, _sacrificing_ himself so that Eggsy would have a chance.

Michelle doesn’t try to tell him these humans are different, simply settles herself between his front paws and chirps soothingly at him.

She doesn’t chide him for growling at the young woman who returns to check on him late in the afternoon either, but she does send him a pointed look from her perch on her shoulder when the newcomer steps just close enough to offer him a choice piece of meat before retreating a bit farther.

This time, he sniffs at the food suspiciously, taking careful bites, and Michelle flies back over to him, reproach in her eyes.

_Adelaide won’t poison you. She didn’t yesterday, she wouldn’t today._

The young woman, Adelaide, doesn’t seem to take offence at his behaviour however, looking happy and relieved to see that he’s eating anything at all.

“You shouldn’t have any trouble finding food on the estate, your lot never does, but if you ever do, there’s plenty to go around in the kitchens.”

He barely registers the meaning of her words, because he’s too shocked by the sudden realisation that she is speaking to him as she would an equal, something no other human he’s encountered has ever done before.

His surprise and the reason behind it must be obvious, because Michelle launches herself into an explanation without being asked.

_She is no magic user, none of the Harts have ever been as far as I can recall, but she knows we’re familiars._

_Familiars?_ It’s not the first time she’s used the word, but it’s the first time Eggsy thinks of asking about it.

_Yes, familiars. That’s how the humans refers to us. Not really imaginative of them if you ask me, but that’s the only word the magic users can come up with when asked to describe us._

_Why would they want to describe us?_

If Michelle is bothered by his questions, she doesn’t say, but there’s something strangely protective in her eyes now when she looks at him and she understands just how much he doesn’t _know_.

_Because that’s who we’re waiting for. One day, the one that is just for you will call for you and you’ll finally be complete._

He doesn’t know how he feels about that new information, how he is apparently fated to depend on a human in the future. He elects not to say anything of his displeasure however when he sees the somewhat wistful gleam in Michelle’s eyes.

He can’t say he’s surprised when she flies back over to Adelaide, the young woman now reading a book, sitting directly on the ground, her back against a tree. He’s not stupid enough not to have figured out she’s only doing it in order to keep an eye on him, but if he doesn’t trust her, he’s willing to trust Michelle.

And if he decides to stay exactly where he is when Adelaide starts reading out loud to them, it’s only because the story is captivating and has nothing to do with the nice comforting ring of her voice.

It takes a while, but Eggsy settles in.

He stays secluded from all the others by choice, growling in warning anytime another familiar comes too close to the area he has claimed as his own.

After a few weeks, only Michelle visits anymore, never deterred by Eggsy’s prickly attitude. He doesn’t really mind the presence of the sparrow either, but he would prefer it far more if it didn’t mean Adelaide would come around too.

He may have come to accept she isn’t there to hurt him, but she has yet to do anything to win his trust. He doubts any human ever will, even his fated magic user. After all, humans are the reason Lee died and he’s now without any family in this new sanctuary. Lee’s magic user calling out to him is the reason he abandoned all sense of prudence and walked right into that trap.

It is a lonely life he lives among all the other familiars, and he sometimes longs for the forest’s heart, his memories of the ancient ones that resided in it now simply tainted with nostalgia. Yet he stays, he _waits_ , if only because he refuses to let Lee’s sacrifice be in vain.

The days rise and the nights fall, seasons come and go, and nothing ever truly changes at the estate.

He’s stopped growling at all the others, but it’s been a long time since any of them, except for Michelle, has come close to him. Even Adelaide doesn’t walk around the woods so much since she’s had her own pup. _Baby_ , Michelle told him the humans called them.

It’s why he’s surprised to be woken up from his nap by loud happy chirpings right next to his ear.

He lazily opens his eyes, his gaze falling on the bird at his side. She can’t be much more older than a chick and she’s jumping excitedly from foot to foot.

_I’m here, I’m here, I’ve made it! Hello, hello, we’re here, we’re actually here!_

More disjointed babblings follow, the wren too young to properly express herself, but Eggsy is able to understand the gist of it.

She had been looking for the estate, for this sanctuary, all on her own and now she has to share her joy upon finding it. Eggsy doesn’t have the heart to belittle her accomplishment, not when she is so obviously proud of herself. He soon finds that her happiness is contagious and for the first time in years, he finds himself laughing.

_I could show you around if you want?_ He doesn’t know what makes him offer, but he cannot go back on his words at her reaction.

_Yes, yes, yes!_ She is so excited that she trips on her own feet and fall on her side. She doesn’t seem to care at all however and lets Eggsy help her back on her feet with a gently push of his nose. _Now? Please, yes, now!_

As he makes his way out of the woods, she follows him, fluttering around his head clumsily. It doesn’t take long for her to crash on the back of his neck, but she’s so small and light, that he barely feels it.

But, no matter how light she is, he doesn’t miss how she settles on the top of his head instead of continuing to fly around. He feels as if he should shake his head to dislodge her or at the very least tell her off, and yet he does nothing of the sort. For some reason, he likes how she keeps on chirping with awe in his ear, commenting on everything she sees, barely paying any mind to what Eggsy tells her about the sanctuary.

Any place else, they would make a strange tableau, the foxhound strolling through a field of flowers, a wren throned on his head, but on the Hart estate, they fit right in.

Later, he won’t remember much of that afternoon, except for the feeling of discovering an entirely new world through the amazed gaze of his little companion. That, and a question.

_What’s your name?_

He will never know if his new friend -- the little sister he decided to look after the second she fell asleep nested between his ears later on that day -- if she had a name before he asked. Maybe she did, maybe her happy tweeting was her answer. Or maybe she didn’t truly hear him and she was simply repeating happily the name of the flowers they were slowly wandering in.

One way or another, the name does suit her.

_Daisy._  


	2. Chapter 2

At the edge of his consciousness Cinead registers the smell of smoke. Not the warm, homey scent of a fire in the hearth, but a thick, acrid smoke that coats the inside of his mouth. His brow furrows as he pulls himself from sleep, hoping to get up and get a glass of water to wash away the taste.

He’s just barely opened his eyes when the screech of the smoke alarm has him sitting upright with his heart in his throat. He’s only heard that sound a few times before. The first when his mother had explained what it was and what it meant, and several times more when his father had accidentally burned something in the kitchen. Every time, Cinead had clamped his hands over his ears as tears rolled down his cheeks. This time was no exception.

He quickly scoots his way to the edge of the bed and tries to remember what his mother had said to do if the smoke alarm went off. But it’s hard to think when he is so scared and the alarm is so loud. He stumbles across the room towards the door, hands still pressed hard against his ears. If he can just get to his parents, surely they will tell him what he needs to do.

The sound gets louder when he removes a hand to reach for the door handle, but he jumps and presses it back to his head when the handle burns him. He coughs, tears and snot streaking his face, and he sinks down to his knees on the floor. If only he could remember what to do.

Cinead’s eyes travel around the room, sight obscured with tears and smoke, looking for some unknown solution. Suddenly he catches sight of the red bag under his bed and he remembers what his mother had said as she’d slid it underneath.

_“If ye can’t get out yer door, ye can use this ladder to climb out yer window. Remember, we’ll meet as a family out by the mailbox. So climb down and wait for us next to it. Yer father and I will find our own way out of the house and meet ye there. Can ye remember all that, wee ain?”_

Wiping his face on his sleeve, he scrambles under the bed and pulls on the bag. It’s heavy, but he knows he can do this. As he slides open the window and pulls out the screen, he thinks about how his mother and father will be waiting for him by the mailbox, arms outstretched. As he rolls the ladder out of the window and climbs out after, he thinks about how his mother will pull him to her chest as his father wraps his arms around them from behind. As he races around the side of the house and down the driveway he thinks about them whispering that everything will be alright.

He slows as he approaches the mailbox. There is no one there waiting. Cinead comes to a stop next to the old wooden post, blue paint worn and chipped. He turns around and stands with his arms tight to his chest and the wind whipping at his back. A window explodes, and the tinkle of glass onto the driveway gives way to the faint sound of sirens rushing closer. His mother’s voice echoes in his head.

_“No matter what, don’t go back in. Not to get a toy, not to look for us. Just wait. Can ye do that, Cinead? Can ye wait for us?”_

Cinead sits on his bed and looks out the window at the buildings nearby. The view is different from the one that he had from his old bedroom window - neighboring houses instead of fields of grass, cars driving by on a nearby street instead of his favourite oak tree at the edge of their yard. His fingers grip harder to the edges of the book open in his lap.

The other children are playing in the back garden, no longer interested in teasing the quiet, sullen boy who’s come to stay with them. He doesn’t mind, he doesn’t really want to make any friends. He glances down and loosens his hold on the book, fiddling with the silver bookmark with his family crest that’s slipped between the pages. He starts reading again, only understanding about half the words. It’s a book about world magic that is far too complicated for even his advanced reading, but it has a cover he vaguely remembers from the bookshelf in his father’s study, so he slogs ahead anyways.

He hears footsteps on the stairs, but he doesn’t turn or look up when they stop outside his door. The familiar voice of Sarah, the house mother, cuts through the silence of the room. “Moira, that’s Cinead. He’s only just arrived here last month. Why don’t you two get acquainted while I get your things from the car.”

As Sarah’s footsteps retreat back down the stairs, Cinead hears Moira shuffle into the room and his mattress dips down as she sits on the edge. He glances over at her. She’s older, maybe nine or ten, and has the glazed look he’s learning to recognize in those who have been in the system a long time.

“Oh, you’re learning about world magic too, huh?” He nods his head once and looks back down at his book as she continues. “I took one of those home aptitude tests and it said I had an affinity for it. So I figured I might as well learn more. First thing I did, look up the meaning of my name, see if there were any portents around it. Come to find out, Moira means uncertainty. I figure my parents must not have been magic users. Who knowingly names their kid after uncertainty?”

While she’s been talking, Cinead has closed the book and pulled his knees up to his chest, uncomfortable in a way he can’t quite explain. Moira stops talking for a moment and looks down at her lap, fingers fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

“Do you know the meaning of your name?”

He shakes his head.

“Well let me know when you get to that part of your book. Maybe your parents chose better.”

Three nights later he lies in bed until he hears Sarah walk back downstairs. When he's sure she won't come back he pulls out the baby name book he checked out of the library. The moon is nearly full, and its light shines brightly through his window and down across his blankets. He opens the book and flips the pages until he comes to his name.

_Cinead - Origin: Scottish, Irish, Gaelic; Meaning: Born of fire._

He reads the words once, twice, then lets out a broken noise. The book drops to the floor with a thump as he curls into a ball under his blankets, shoulders shaking as he muffles his sobs in his pillow.

The car hits a pothole and Cinead jostles in the backseat. His breath fogs up the window where his head rests, and he wipes it away with the sleeve of his new winter coat. Mr. and Mrs. Hart (“Call us Ian and Diane” they’d said, but for now they remain the Harts) sit in the front, talking softly as Mr. Hart drives them back to their home.

He’d met them only once before, a visit to the group home three months after he’d arrived. Sarah had told him that the Grays and the Harts were distantly related. The barrister had found mention of them in some of his father's paperwork. When he contacted them about Cinead’s situation they’d agreed to come out and meet him.

It had been a short visit. They lived in London and had traveled out for just the day. But they had been nice, not patronizing of a loss they couldn't understand. Apparently Cinead had made a decent enough impression because the next month Sarah had told him he would be going to live with them and their son, Harry.

The window fogs again, and he draws a lumpy dog with his finger before wiping it all away. The greys, greens, and browns of the barren countryside streak past and he closes his eyes against the sight. He falls asleep to the memory of his mother's voice singing him a lullabye.

When he opens his eyes again, Mrs. Hart is turned in her seat and is gently shaking his knee.

“We’re here, Cinead. Welcome home.”

He sits up and watches out the front window as a massive house comes into view, and his eyes grow wide in amazement. The grey stone building towers over the car as they drive closer, and Cinead is reminded of the pictures of castles he used to see in some of his father’s books. There are great stone columns surrounding the entrance, and near the roof he sees what must be the family crest. To the right are smaller service buildings, and to the left a rolling sea of dry grass and winter-bare trees.

There’s something about this place, something more than just stone walls and endless fields. He feels it like a hand against his ribs, trying to push its way into his chest. For a moment he thinks he should be scared, but then it changes into a warm tingle radiating over his skin. It’s like the feeling he’d get when his mother would run her fingers through his hair while she read him tales of King Arthur and his knights - safe, loving, _like home_.

The car comes to a stop in front of the stairs and Cinead is quick to get out and into the house. All he can think is that this is where he was supposed to end up, and he wants to understand why. There is a shuffle of people around him as he stands looking around the foyer - a man helps Mr. Hart retrieve Cinead’s meagre belongings from the car, a cook speaks to Mrs. Hart about the evening meal, and a stately woman approaches Cinead holding the hand of another young boy.

As they draw near, the woman kneels down to whisper something in the boy’s ear, and Mrs. Hart sends the cook away with a wave. She places her hand on Cinead’s shoulder and he turns his head to look up at her.

“Cinead, this is Harry and his grandmother, Adelaide. Harry, darling, this is Cinead. He’s come to live with us, like we talked about. Would you stay with him until supper time, please?”

The boy, Harry, gives Cinead a quick look and then nods his head. “Of course, Mother.”

“Wonderful. Addy and I will be in the parlour if you need us.” Mrs Hart kneels down next to Cinead and looks him in the eye. “We are very happy to have you here with us now. Take all the time you need to settle in.”

With a final pat to his shoulder, Mrs Hart stands and walks to the other side of the room. Adelaide is still kneeling next to Harry, and clears her throat gently to get their attention.

When they’ve both turned to look at her, she taps Harry on the chest and says seriously, “I’m counting on you to look after him, Harry.”

Harry nods solemnly, and Adelaide kisses Harry’s cheek before turning to Cinead and resting her palm on his chest. “And Cinead, keep Harry out of trouble, would you? He’s notorious for finding himself in it.” Harry huffs, and Cinead can’t think of a response other than to nod as well, surprised at being spoken to as though he’s an equal in the family already. She winks and then moves to join Mrs. Hart.

The two boys stand there for a moment looking at each other before Harry breaks the silence.

“Would you like me to show you around, Cinead?”

Now that the he’s not trying so hard to be polite, he must make a face at the question because Harry is quick to add, “Or I can just show you where your room is. Mum said it’s to be next to mine.”

Cinead shakes his head and looks down at his feet. “It isn’t that. I just wish people would stop calling me that.”

“Calling you what? Cinead? Isn’t that your name?”

“It was. But it isn’t who I am any more.”

Harry looks surprised for a moment, but then seems to understand what he’s trying to say and his face turns solemn. “Then who are you?”

Cinead thinks of the warm tingle in his chest, of the last time he’d had this feeling. He looks up and for the first time since he left the group home, a weak smile finds its way onto his face. “My name is Merlin. Nice to meet you, Harry.”

"Nice to meet you too, Merlin." Harry smiles brightly and tilts his head towards the hallway. "Want to see the library?"

And just like that Merlin feels like something has been corrected. This time when he smiles it’s with his whole face, and he nods his head at Harry. “You have a library inside your house? Will I be able to borrow the books?”

Harry reaches out and takes Merlin’s hand and starts pulling him towards the hall. “Of course! You live here now, so they’re your books now too.”

Merlin’s eyes go big as he follows along behind Harry. Their hands are warm together and his heart feels at peace as they race through the halls, Merlin’s helpless giggle echoing in their wake.


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin’s breath swirls out in front of him on an aborted cry. Of all the things that his parents had taught him, ice skating was not one of them.

Harry tugs his hand again, and he wobbles on his skates. “Stop, Harry! I’m not as good at this as you are.”

“Finally something that you aren’t good at, Merlin?” Harry teases, skating in a circle around Merlin as he tries to stay upright.

Merlin scowls and attempts, once again, to get himself to move forward. It’s harder than he thought it’d be when he’d agreed to try this in the warmth of the house. But now that he’s out here, he refuses to go in until he’s done at least one lap around the ice.

Adelaide sits on one of the benches on the path that curves around the edge of the pond, a book in her lap as she alternates between watching them and reading. Merlin briefly wonders if she knows how to skate, and whether he could convince her to help him learn instead of Harry, when he feels another tug on his arm. He braces his ankles and bends his knees and lets out a startled whoop as Harry slowly pulls him across the ice.

For another half hour Harry pulls and pushes and teases Merlin good naturedly until finally he lets go and Merlin makes his first wobbly progress on his own.

“Harry! Harry, look!” Merlin shouts as he slowly glides to where Harry is waiting.

Harry laughs. “Well done, Merlin! Now, let’s see if you can catch me, hrm?” He pulls a face, and then leisurely starts skating around the pond. Merlin sighs but follows after him.

As Merlin moves unsteadily around the pond, his eyes catch on a strange collection of animals near several trees. He squints and pushes himself closer. He’s never seen so many different animals all together in one spot. He doesn’t recognize them all, but he’s fairly certain he sees a deer sitting next to a rabbit and a squirrel perched on the back of a fox.

He’s nearly to the bank closest to the animals when he hits an uneven patch of ice. With a yelp, he flails his arms and lands soundly on his arse. In a split second the animals scatter, scampering towards the field that borders the pond. Merlin can only watch them retreat as tears spring to his eyes at the pain.

Harry is at his side a moment later, making sure he isn’t hurt more than a bruised tailbone. He guides Merlin back to the bench Adelaide is sitting at and sets him down gently next to her. 

“Merlin! Are you alright darling?” Adelaide asks. She runs her hand through his hair and pulls him in for a hug. Merlin’s afraid if he says anything he’ll start crying so he simply nods his head where it rests against her chest and tries to calm his breathing.

“Harry, if you’d like you can go skate for another ten minutes or so while Merlin catches his breath, then we’ll all head in for some hot chocolate,” Adelaide says. Harry nods and squeezes Merlin’s shoulder once before heading back out onto the ice.

Harry spins in circles while Merlin tries to ignore the pain in his arse and unlace his skates. After a few minutes it’s subsided to a dull ache and his feet are back into his boots. As he looks up, his eyes are drawn to a flicker of color at the edge of the field.

“Adelaide? Did you see the animals that were sitting over there earlier?” Merlin points with his glove covered hand before putting it back in his lap. “It was strange. I’ve never seen so many different kinds all together in one spot before.”

“Ah, so you’ve noticed our little friends, did you?” She looks up with a fond smile, her eyes crinkling happily. “Not many know this, even within the family, but there is some strong magic tied to these lands that attracts all kinds of creatures.”

It’s the first time anyone has told Merlin that magic could be tied to a location or that it could have any effect without a magic user directing it. Before he can ask anything about it however, Harry does it for him, the other boy having grown quite bored of skating alone and returning to the bench just in time to hear the start of Adelaide’s explanation.

“Magic? There’s magic here?”

“Yes, not that you would feel it. Some animals are more sensitive to it though, and those that are show a better understanding of the world around them.”

“ _ That’s _ why Father gets angry when there are poachers near the woods!” Harry practically shouts.

It wasn’t often that Ian Hart lost his temper, either publicly or in private, but Merlin had yet to see him angrier than when there were rumors of poachers in the area.

“That’s exactly why. It’s not the only reason mind you, but it is one of them. As the future head of the house, it’s important that you know all of them, Harry.”

The conversation turns to the head of the house’s many responsibilities as they slowly make their way back to the house, to Merlin’s disappointment and Harry’s displeasure. But any grievance is soon forgotten when Adelaide leads them toward the kitchen, not having forgotten her promise of hot chocolate.

Eggsy’s playing in the flowers with Daisy when he spots the new boy in the distance, reading by himself. He doesn’t look like he’s noticed them or if he has, he finds his books far more interesting than the two animals’ antics.

Usually, Eggsy would let him be, still wary of any humans besides Adelaide, even one as young as the boy. But he can’t deny he’s been curious about him ever since he’d first spotted him on the estate. From having seen him running along with the youngest Hart, he knows that they are playmates, but it doesn’t really explain his constant presence at the house. Even if it’s no longer true, the boy didn’t smell anything like the Harts or any of the workers, as if he was a complete stranger.

It makes him wonder if maybe the boy is a bit like him, like them, a lost soul who has found a sanctuary at the estate.

There is a possibility that he might be entirely wrong, but it’s hard to shake the idea once he’s had it, and he feels a kinship with the boy he’s never felt with any human before.

It’s the reason he tells Daisy to hop on his head before walking closer to the boy instead of leaving for the safety of the forest. If she is surprised by his actions, she ignores it in favor of her excitement of seeing a human from the house other than Adelaide. She chirps millions of questions, her curiosity still as boundless as when she first came to the sanctuary and Eggsy doesn’t even try to answer them all. He’s tried many times and never succeeded, mostly because she always has more to ask.

_ What’s this? What is he holding? What is he doing? Why is he alone? Where’s the other chick? _

He knows what the boy is doing obviously, but Daisy wouldn’t understand what  _ reading _ is. It’s been a long time since Adelaide has come around to read out loud to the familiars, years before the little wren had found her way to the estate. But with any luck, he’ll be able to convince the boy to read to them and this way satiate some of Daisy’s curiosity.

For that of course, the boy would need to look away from the book on his lap and realise he now has a little audience of two. After staring at him for a frustrating amount of time, Eggsy has to face the fact he’ll have to be slightly more persuasive if he wants it to happen.

There is a soft breeze blowing across the field and through the little copse of trees on the south side of the estate. The leaves on the oak he sits under rustle, and there is the twittering of a bird somewhere in the distance. It’s the ideal background noise to accompany his reading.

It’s summer holiday, and normally Merlin would take his books and sit outside on the veranda while Harry was off playing with his school friends. But today they had decided to play footie in the grass just below him, and Merlin hadn’t been able to concentrate. So he’d packed up his books and wandered until he’d found the perfect spot to spread out and read.

He doesn’t know how long he lays there, occasionally switching out one book for another in his satchel. He’s just gotten to an interesting part in his latest book, hunched over and completely enthralled, when he’s startled from his reading by a loud bark.

Merlin looks up from his book only for his eyes to be met by curious aquamarine ones. At the edge of the field, not twenty metres from where he sits, is a beautiful foxhound. He’s never seen the animal before, and he wonders if perhaps it’s wandered away from home and onto the estate.

The dog turns its head slightly, to look out towards the forest at the edge of the property, and that’s when Merlin sees her. The twittering he’s been hearing all morning is coming from the little wren perched on the dog’s neck.

It’s a curious sight, but since his talk with Adelaide the previous winter he’s gotten used to seeing the unusual behaviour of the animals around the estate. Slowly, so as not to spook them, he puts a bookmark between the pages and shuts his book.

He thinks he recognizes the little bird, it’s hard to know for sure, as one that likes to come to the side of the house when Harry fills the feeder. Each morning after breakfast, Harry carries out bird seed and fresh fruit and whispers well wishes to the birds. There is one little bird that stays longer than the rest, twittering and fluffing her wings, and Merlin thinks that the bird in front of him now may be the same one.

“I don’t have any food, if that’s what you’re hoping for,” he says. He wishes now that he did, that he might have a way to coax this strange pair of animals closer.

The dog turns back to him at the sound of his voice, and curiously tilts his head as though he understands what Merlin is saying. The little bird chirps and then the dog makes a snuffling noise as though they are talking to one another.

The bird hops down from the dog’s head, her little wings fluttering as she settles down to sit in the grass. Cautiously, the foxhound slowly walks towards Merlin. He sits as still as he can, his heart speeding up as the dog moves closer. There is something about his eyes that captures Merlin’s attention, and he wonders what it is that he’s thinking.

When he’s only an arm's length away, Merlin watches as the dog lays down and stretches out his paw to set on his forgotten book. They sit there for a long couple of minutes, Merlin watching and waiting to see what the dog will do next, the dog looking at Merlin as though he’s trying to figure something out about him.

Eventually the dog lets out another bark and pulls his paw back. He gets up and quickly lopes back to where the little bird is still sitting and lays down next to her.

Merlin huffs, feeling like he’s just passed some sort of test, and looks down at his book then back up.

“You want me to read to you?” he asks. The dog barks again, and the little bird chirps, and Merlin takes that as a confirmation.

He holds up the book to show the pair, even though he knows they can’t possibly understand what is written there. “I don’t think you’d be too interested in me reading  _ The Complete Book of World Magic Science _ outloud. Might be a little boring for you.”

He takes the book and slides it into his satchel then starts digging around until he pulls out a new book with a delighted  _ Aha! _

“How about something from this one -  _ Fairy Tales and Stories of Enchantment _ ? I haven’t had a chance to read all of these yet.” The wren and the foxhound tilt their heads at him from where they lay, and he decides that’s good enough. He opens the book and falls back onto the grass as he starts reading.

“There was once a poor widow with a daughter named Ursula, who was as beautiful as a spring day but clumsy as could be. The poor mother...”

The soft pad of slippers on the hardwood is the only warning they’re given that someone is coming. Merlin hears it first and his head snaps to the side to look at the door to the hallway.

“Harry!” he whispers, hand clutching the book he’s holding at his side. “Harry! Someone’s coming!”

Harry looks down from where he’s perched on the neighboring bookshelf, arm outstretched and fingers just brushing the spine of the book Merlin had said he wanted. “I’ve almost got it Merlin, just a moment more.”

Merlin glances at Harry and then back at the door, where he now hears Diane talking to someone. “Harry, hurry up!” he hisses.

Merlin spends most mornings before breakfast in the library, pulling books off the shelves to skim through on the floor or to carry back to one of the overly plush leather armchairs for a more in depth read. Harry, on the other hand, is very rarely awake and out of bed before his mother comes to collect them to eat. 

So, even after nearly a year has passed since the first time Harry pulled him into this room, he’s still surprised when the older boy is not only up but decides to join him. It’s only happened a few times and Harry never seems interested in the books, usually draping himself over the furniture in a manner befitting his nine years and making rude noises as he watches Merlin read.

But today when Merlin had frowned and lamented how the library wasn’t built to accommodate anyone under five feet, and that all he really wanted to was read that book on the top shelf titled  _ The Black Pullet: Science of Magical Talisman _ , Harry had gotten a mischievous glint in his eye. Now it’s led to Merlin watching as Harry clings to the crown moulding of the bookcase, two feet off the floor, nudging the book off the shelf with his fingertips.

Merlin hears the voices in the hall stop and the shuffle of feet coming closer just as Harry hops from his perch to catch the book as it falls from the shelf. He turns around with a cheeky grin and the book displayed proudly against his chest as Diane rounds the doorframe. Her eyes narrow as the two of them quickly attempt to look innocent, but only says “Good morning, boys. Breakfast is ready. Gretta’s made pancakes, so you best hurry if you don’t want your father to eat them all before you get there.”

Merlin is still looking at Diane when he hears Harry say “Catch!” and toss the book in Merlin’s direction. Thankfully his reflexes are sharp, and he grabs the book before it falls to the floor. Harry’s steps echo loudly as he runs out of the room and down the hall. Merlin pauses only a moment, long enough to carefully set the book down on the side table, before dashing out after him.

Their race comes to an abrupt halt when they nearly run Adelaide over in the hallway. She frowns at them both, but it’s tempered by the amusement in her eyes. The boys fall in step behind her as she leads the way to the dining room.

Merlin slows his pace just slightly, and Harry does the same, throwing him a curious expression over his shoulder. When there is enough space between them and Adelaide that she won’t overhear, Merlin leans over and whispers to Harry.

“Why on  _ earth _ did you do that? If Diane had caught you climbing the bookshelves, you would’ve been grounded for a month!”

Merlin can’t quite decipher the expression Harry gives him before he whispers back.

“The library is your favourite place in the house. It’s the only place I’m guaranteed to see a smile on your face, except for this morning. Even if mum had caught me, it’d have been worth it to make sure that your smile was back.”

Merlin stops short and stares, caught off guard by Harry’s words. Harry turns around and walks backwards as he gives Merlin a cheeky grin. “But maybe before I have to do it again you could ask Peter to bring in a step stool for you.” Merlin snorts and hurries to catch up.

Later, as he prepares his and Harry’s tea, Adelaide’s first words to him echo in his head.  _ Keep Harry out of trouble, would you? He’s notorious for finding himself in it. _ It’s a simple thing and even though nothing happened this morning, if Harry had been caught, Merlin would have been the cause.

He doesn’t like that. Since coming to live with Harry and his family, he’s developed a profound respect for Adelaide and he doesn’t want to disappoint her. Harry is his brother and his best friend, and he finds himself taking the request very seriously.

He stirs Harry’s tea and watches as the liquid swirls in the cup. He thinks about how he wants to look out for Harry. For a moment his thoughts stray to his parents, and suddenly he’s wishing with every fibre in his being that Harry can be kept out of trouble, safe and protected. He won’t lose any more people that he loves if there is a way he can prevent it.

Absently he feels a faint tingle run down his arm and across his fingertips. It feels like an electric current and it shocks him into letting go of the spoon he’s holding. Before he can fully acknowledge the sensation, however, Harry slides up beside him and snags his cup. 

“Where’d you go, Merlin? Tea isn’t that interesting.” He lifts it and takes an exaggerated sip.  “The guys are coming around to go swimming. Want to join us?”

Merlin shoulders relax, and the tension Merlin hadn’t realized he’d been holding slips away. He smiles up at Harry. “Nae, thanks. I think I’ll head back to the library and start in on that book. Thanks though, Harry.”

Harry shrugs. “No worries. See you later then.”

Harry finishes off his tea and sets down his cup on the tray before heading towards his room. Merlin watches him go and thinks to himself that maybe today will be the day Harry manages to keep himself out of trouble.

That morning, Eggsy wakes up on edge.

He cannot say why, cannot pinpoint the source of his anxiety, just that there is  _ something _ that has his heart twisting with worries. It’s the strangest feeling to have after years upon years of peacefulness on the estate and it’s all the more reason for him not to ignore it.

Slowly, he makes a round of the woods, making sure everyone is accounted for. But except for a few frowns over his uncharacteristic behaviour, all the other familiars not only seem to be fine, but none of them seem to share his concerns, as if they cannot feel the undercurrent of  _ tragedy _ looming in the very air.

Well, if the others can't, so be it. That won’t stop Eggsy from being on his guard until he’s either proven right or the feelings disappear by themselves.

Which is why when he feels himself tugged in the direction of the house, as if by an invisible thread, he doesn’t resist the impulse. It might have been a long time since he last needed to rely on his instincts, but if he’s alive today, it is entirely thanks to them. He won’t risk it now.

He’s never been quite this close to the house before, has never been interested in whatever routines the humans could have, so it’s with some surprise that he sees the young Hart pup go and feed the birds. He had known that someone had to fill the feeders, but for some reason the thought that it could be done by one of the Harts had never crossed his mind.

But he seems to be enjoying the work and Eggsy has to smile when he sees Daisy settling down on top of the boy’s head. Maybe he should feel jealous since he’s usually the only one she’s affectionate with, but it’s hard to be when he can hear the boy laughing at her antics, carefully dislodging her from his hair so that she can rest more safely on his shoulder.

Eggsy can’t hear what the boy is saying over the distance and he can barely hear what Daisy is chirping in answer, but for a moment, looking on the happy exchange is nearly enough to make him forget why he ventured out of the woods.

The moment Daisy flies away however, disturbed by the arrival of some of the boy’s friends, a wave of panic crashes through him. It takes some time before he’s got himself under control again, long enough that the boys are gone. It doesn’t take long to find them, guided by their smell and the sound of their laughter as they shove each other playfully near the pond.

It’s probably not the first time they’ve done something similar and yet, Eggsy is that close to going up to them and grabbing them all by the scruff of their neck to drag them away from the water’s edge. Before he can convince himself he’s being ridiculous however, there is a sharp yell when one of the boys pushes the Hart pup unexpectedly hard.

As he watches the boy trip over his feet and fall into the pond, it feels to him as if time has slowed down. Hours could have passed until the boy hit the water, even if he knows it cannot have been more than a few seconds.

Any other day, he would have stayed where he is, looking on at the scene, not afraid in the least. There are some deep parts in the pond yes, but nothing that would prove dangerous to a good swimmer.

Any other day, Eggsy would have missed the way the boy is thrashing in the water, unable to come up to the surface, and he would have jumped into the water after the Hart pup a moment too late.

Any other day and the boy would have drowned.

But all his senses have been on high alert since he woke up that morning and barely a minute passes before Eggsy’s teeth close around the boy’s shoulder. Dragging him out of the water is tricky, the boy inadvertently fighting against him. But soon they are both safely on the ground again, the Hart pup coughing up the pond water and Eggsy the wren’s feather that somehow found itself in his mouth.

He stays with the boys until he sees Adelaide running in their direction, confident that she won’t let anything happen to them. After all he doesn’t feel any real fondness for humans and now that the feeling of dread has lifted from his heart, he has no reason to protect their pups.

The summer holiday is almost over and Harry and Merlin start school in a week. They’re called to breakfast that morning to find Gretta has set a full English out on the veranda as a special treat before the return to hurried meals of jam and toast.

Ian, Diane, and Adelaide’s voices are a familiar buzz at one end of the table, but Merlin isn’t really listening. Instead he’s thinking about the new class he’ll be in and whether or not he’ll fit in any better this year. Across the table Harry is trying, and failing, to subtly toss blueberries over the railing for the birds to eat.

As has become his habit, Merlin gets up to fetch he and Harry a fresh cup of tea before they head their separate ways for the day.

Since the morning Harry nearly drowned, Merlin has felt a compulsion to think hard about his wants for the day while he prepares their cups. He knows logically it must have been a coincidence that Harry came away from the pond unharmed, that it had nothing to do with the wish he had made to keep his friend safe. But it seemed unwise to ignore the feeling all together, so instead he’d continued to focus on his daily intentions and not thought about the reasons why.

As he slowly stirs sugar into his tea, he hopes that today he can become friendly with one of his classmates. Harry and his friends are making the most of the last days of summer, spending long hours outside running around the estate. Some of them have even brought their younger brothers along with them, surely at the behest of their parents. Two of said brothers will be in Merlin’s class on Monday. 

So far Merlin has stayed away, preferring his books to their games. But he hopes today he will have enough courage to join in. Maybe the new class won’t be so daunting if he already knows some of his classmates.

As Merlin thinks about what he might say to one of the younger boys, a sparrow breaks off from the group of birds Harry is feeding and starts circling his head. Her rapid chirps have him looking up before she dives down and lands on his shoulder.

Abruptly he notices that a hush has fallen over the table. He glances over to see Adelaide getting up from her chair and walking over to him. It’s then that he realizes that the bird hopping back and forth on his shoulder must be the same one that he’s seen flying around Adelaide when she goes for walks around the grounds.

When Adelaide gets close she puts her hand out to the bird, but the sparrow just chirps more and starts pecking at the collar of Merlin’s shirt.

“I’ve never had one of the birds land on me before. Is this the one that likes you, Adelaide?” Adelaide only nods, and Merlin sets down the spoon to lift his hand to the bird. “Is she normally this friendly?” Merlin asks. The sparrow hops from his shoulder onto his finger and twitters once more.

“No,” Adelaide says, and Merlin thinks it’s the first time he’s seen her look so unsure about something. “What were you doing just now, Merlin?”

Merlin goes still, now the one who’s confused as to why Adelaide is asking. “I was just making Harry and I’s tea.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” she says and steps closer. The sparrow starts chirping even more now, and flutters down from Merlin’s finger to peck at the handle of Merlin’s cup. “While you were making the tea, what were you thinking about?”

Merlin blushes and can feel everyone’s eyes on him. “I was just thinking about what I wanted from the day,” he mumbles, embarrassed to voice even the bare bones of his wishes.

"Is that what you always think of?"

"Aye. Well, mostly. Sometimes I think about Harry... I think about him overcoming his problems or staying safe, out of trouble."

Adelaide frowns and Merlin doesn’t know what’s wrong, but her brows knit and she seems to fall deep into thought.

The sparrow looks between the two of them, and Merlin sees a flicker of awareness in her eyes before she chirps and takes flight. He follows her path as it weaves across the yard and out towards the pond.

"Like that day he nearly drowned,” Merlin says, mostly to himself, but he feels Adelaide’s eyes as they snap up and focus on him. “It's stupid, I know it had nothing to do with it, but I’d wished that morning that I could protect him, that nothing would take him away from me."

Adelaide puts a hand over her mouth and takes a step back. Merlin is quick to follow, taking her elbow and guiding her over to one of the chairs.

“What is it? Adelaide, what’s wrong?”

She drops her hand to her lap and looks up into his face with a look of wonder. “Merlin, I think you are the first person to live here that has the ability to use magic.”

4:32am.

Merlin throws an arm over his eyes and tries again to fall back to sleep.

It’s been three days since Adelaide told him that he’s been practicing magic and Merlin is finally starting to feel the weight of that revelation.

In four days Merlin will be back at school, in a new class with older children and harder work, and now suddenly dealing with the knowledge that he is a wizard and all the studying required to harness and control his magic.

He’s begun rereading books in the library, this time with the intent to not only understand but to put what he learns into practice. But he’s all alone here in his magical pursuits. Ian and Diane have told him they will hire a magical tutor to come to the house and help with his studies. Adelaide has knowledge but no power, no practical application for her wistful curiosity.

None of it is the same, however, as if it had been his parents there to teach him. This new knowledge brings with it clarity of things he’d not considered previously -- the books on magic in his father’s office, the gardens out back he wasn’t allowed to go near. He grasps at the memory of his mother’s fingers in his hair, the murmur of her voice as he succumbs to the feeling of love and comfort, the tingling warmth over his scalp...the heat of flames against his face, the sound of exploding glass... 

Merlin clenches his jaw and looks over at his clock. 

4:37am. 

It’s far too early, the sky not even hinting at sunrise, but he’s been lying in his bed awake for hours. He knows he’s going to make himself sick if he just keeps lying there worrying and reliving the past.

Before he can give it more thought, he hops out of bed and quickly changes out of his pajamas and into some clothes.

Once Merlin’s outside, he lets his feet just take him. He doesn’t have a destination, and his mind is too filled with troublesome thoughts for him to pay much attention to where he is wandering. He knows he’s safe as long as he stays on the estate.

Eventually he comes out of his head long enough to realize he’s wandered into a forest at the far end of the property. It’s peaceful and he comes to a stop amidst a stand of beautiful maple trees. For the first time all night his mind finally quiets and settles into something like calm. It’s then that he realizes how much his feet hurt and how exhausted he is, so he stumbles to the largest tree and sits down.

With his back pressed against the bark, Merlin feels what little heat he’d generated from his walk seeping into the dirt underneath him. It may be the end of summer, but the nights have already started to get cold, and Merlin had unthinkingly left the house in just a tee shirt.

The quiet of the woods and of his mind have his eyes drooping heavily. Despite the cold he flops onto his side and curls up.  _ Just a few minutes _ , he thinks. A small nap and then he’ll head back to the house. In a moment he’s asleep.

Eggsy feels the boy walk into his territory, but decides not to worry himself with it. While he will admit it is a bit early for a morning stroll, at least for humans, it’s not his place to judge.

He grows a bit more concerned when the boy elects to sit against a maple tree and shows no signs of leaving anytime soon, but not enough to chase him away. It’s not like he’s doing anything that would warrant a warning growl from Eggsy anyway.

No, the boy is simply resting, without the habitual book at his side. It must be the first time Eggsy’s seen him without one, but he can’t say he’s surprised. Not really, not when even from his hiding place he can feel the turmoil that is swirling under the pup’s skin.

He’d confess as to having some curiosity about his state of mind, if only because the boy always gave off an impression of calm and control whenever he’s been close enough for Eggsy to pick something up. Never before has it been tinged with such anxiety and sadness.

He accepts that his curiosity will never be sated when the boy drops off on the ground near his tree, obviously having drawn some inner peace from being in Eggsy’s territory. He shouldn’t care about it, but try as he may, he cannot shake off the inordinate pride he feels that the pup was enough at ease here to let his guard down so completely. It’s not like it has anything to do with him personally, the whole woods are a safe haven, it is mere coincidence that the pup ended here.

He’s about to follow his example and go back to sleep himself, when he notices the boy shivering. It isn’t cold enough that the boy would become sick, but without extra clothing or fur of his own, he’s bound to become uncomfortable quickly.

Carefully, as to not wake him up, Eggsy approaches the boy and curls up around him. He might never be fond of humans, but this one is still just a pup. Any child is an innocent Eggsy would gladly protect with his life from anything, even something as inconsequential as the weather.

The boy doesn’t wake up, but he sighs softly in contentment, unconsciously cuddling against the warmth at his back.

As for Eggsy, he doesn’t fall asleep after all, playing silent vigil over the boy’s sleep instead.

Later, once the sun is properly up in the sky and warming his corner of the woods, he leaves the boy to his peaceful slumber, the only evidence of what transpired in the early hours of dawn is the dog’s fur left all over his clothing.


	4. Chapter 4

The first night Merlin spends in his house in Kensal Green, Harry shows up on his doorstep with a bottle of scotch in hand and a perfectly wrapped box under his arm.

Merlin is quick to usher him. They’d seen each other only just that morning, Merlin picking up the last couple of boxes that he didn’t trust with the movers. Harry had helped him load the boxes into his car, and given him a brief hug before standing on the stairs to watch him leave down the long drive. It somehow feels like it’s been much longer.

There is a fire already started in the fireplace, and they settle themselves onto the couch, glasses in hand. Boxes are still strewn around the room, half unpacked. The most important things, however, are already put away.

The tomes and volumes that constitute Merlin’s magical library are already in their new home in the massive floor to ceiling bookshelves that take up half the sitting room. He has plans to extend them past the doorway and into the solarium. Around the shelves Merlin has placed pots of dogwood and mulberry and wormwood, living plants chosen specifically to protect and shield his collection.

They are halfway through the bottle when Merlin sets down his glass and settles back against the cushions. He doesn’t say anything but takes Harry’s hand in his own across the couch. For a moment nothing happens and Harry stares at Merlin, waiting for an explanation.

Then a tingling sensation runs through his body and the hair on his arm stands on end. Heat flushes across his chest, and Harry absently wonders why the scotch is hitting him so much harder than normal.

Before he can think more about it, a movement draws his eyes across the room. He turns to look and realizes that the plants on the shelves are moving, swaying like there is a breeze blowing through the room even though the air is still. One of the wormwood branches curls on itself, and Harry could swear when it straightens there are new leaves on it.

He watches for a minute or two, enthralled, before they finally stop moving and Merlin carefully lets go of his hand. As soon as they are no longer touching, Harry’s hit with a wave of exhaustion. He turns sideways on the couch and tucks his legs up under himself. He looks over to see Merlin with his head laying against the back of the couch, eyes closed and a smile overtaking his face. The corners of Harry’s mouth twitch up as his eyes fall shut.

The next morning Harry opens his eyes to see Merlin, now with his torso lying on the couch, face snuggled against Harry’s knees. The backs of his eyes ache, and he has a terrible taste in his mouth, but he can’t think of a better way for them to have spent the first night in Merlin’s house.

Later, after Harry has washed up and prepared a full English breakfast, Merlin stumbles into the kitchen and prepares them both a cup of tea before sitting at the table. As Harry brings their plates to the table, Merlin finally notices the wrapped package sitting next to his spot.

“What’s this?”

Harry sets down their plates and takes his place opposite of Merlin’s chair. He takes a moment to fiddle with his napkin before responding. “Just a housewarming gift.”

Merlin stares at him skeptically before reaching for the box, and Harry uncharacteristically can’t watch. Instead he starts eating his breakfast, eyes pointedly on his food.

For a few minutes there is only the sound of paper crinkling and Harry’s cutlery against his plate. But when he hears Merlin’s sudden intake of breath, Harry sets down his fork and knife and looks up.

The box is open in Merlin’s lap and his fingers are slowly running along the edges of the leather peaking out from the tissue paper. He lifts the straps out and places them reverently on the table. Merlin starts looking closely at the sigils etched into the surface. Harry watches the emotions flicker across his face as he identifies each one.

“They’re for your Grimoire,” Harry says, and then closes his eyes and sighs at his stupidity. Merlin surely knows that. “You’ve been keeping it protected with only a simple incantation for nearly a year. It was about time you upgraded to something more powerful.”

Harry pushes his plate aside and reaches across the table to touch the strap resting there. “Obviously you’ll have to do the enchantment yourself, but I did my best to make sure everything else is in place.”

He hesitates for a moment, then continues, voice softer and betraying his uncertainty. “Leatherworking is a surprisingly tricky craft to pick up. The next set that I make should look substantially better. But these should suffice in the interim.”

Merlin puts down the strap he’s holding and looks at Harry. “You made these?” Harry nods. “Harry, no one at the shop does leatherworking. Yer telling me that ye went and apprenticed somewhere else, just so ye could make these for me?”

“Not just for that, no” Harry lies, but stops at the look Merlin shoots him. “I wasn’t going to let just anyone make them when I could certainly learn how to do it myself.”

For a moment they just look at each other. Then Merlin stands up and comes around the table. Harry finds himself pulled up and into a hug, Merlin murmuring _thank you_ as he does.

Harry is going to miss Merlin here instead of at the estate, but he feels good knowing that at least Merlin will continue to let him see he’s looked after.

Merlin closes his Grimoire with a _thump_ and sets down his pen. His back pops when he stretches his arms above his head, and he looks up to see the sky is dark outside the skylight.

With a sigh he gets up from his stool and heads to the kitchen to find some food. The potions he’s been working on are more powerful and complicated than those he’s made before, and he’s starting to feel the tendrils of fatigue. He knows he’s lucky, at only thirty-six, to have been awarded the contracts from the Valentine Corporation, but he wonders if he was too ambitious having taken on all three at once.

As he waits for the toast to pop and the kettle whistle, Merlin leans back against the counter and let’s his eyes wander over the books on the shelf across the room. More and more often as of late, he’s found himself thinking of Harry and the estate. Working was always easier with his friend around, his own magic boosted by the world magic tied to the estate.

His gaze falls on his copy of _The Black Pullet_ , the very same one that Harry had pulled down for him all those years ago. Merlin can’t help how the corners of his mouth pull up at the memory, and he walks across the room. As he reaches for the book, his hand brushes against a small, leather bound volume that is tucked away between the larger books around it.

He pulls it from the shelf too but pauses mid motion when he reads the title.

_The Witch’s Familiar: Spiritual Partnership for Successful Magic_

Immediately the gears begin turning in Merlin’s head, and he only starts moving again when the kettle starts to whistle. Perhaps there is something he can do to make things better. As he moves the kettle from the heat, he’s already planning his research.

Merlin steps out onto the back step and takes a moment to look up at the full moon. He closes his eyes and focuses on centering himself. A thrum of energy buzzes in his veins as he prepares for the ritual he’s about to perform.

He thinks of his work. He has reached an impasse with Valentine’s potions, and he is drained from the long hours and constant energy he is expending. But since finding the little tome tucked in amongst his books, he’s spent any free time he has researching familiars.

There is less information than he had hoped about familiars themselves. He has found out they learned early on in history to keep to themselves, not only sought out by normal hunters and poachers, but also by their magical counterparts. They are wary of humans, avoiding them when they can. But they can be summoned, drawn by the call of a witch or wizard. A familiar could help share his burden, help focus his abilities and give him the boost he needs to finish his work.

He’s also been lonely, lonelier than he’d care to admit since moving from the estate. Merlin is grateful for the privacy he’s afforded in his home. The space to grow his herbs and plants, to keep his own magical books. A place he can experiment with spells and test potions and not have to worry about Harry or Addy or anyone else's safety.

But the thought of sharing his space with a familiar - someone who will share his magical curiosity, who he won’t have to worry over, who might fill an empty space inside himself he’s tried not to think about - is comforting. This is his home now, but it’s never felt as much as a home as the estate had when he’d been growing up. Maybe this would help to change that.

He breathes deep and opens his eyes to see the silhouette of birds flying against the moon and finally feels ready to begin.

Meticulously, Merlin cleanses the area just inside and outside of the door, then casts the circle so the centre is right across the threshold. To the right he places a white candle, flame flickering in the breeze from the garden. Across from it he places a small plate of hard boiled eggs as an offering he hopes the familiar will enjoy. A single daffodil is laid against the circle at Merlin’s back. Then as Merlin sits in the centre of the circle, facing the quiet of his garden, he places the final item in front of him.

 _The Black Pullet_ is wrapped in a scrap of suiting wool, the silver bookmark bearing the Grey family crest tucked inside the cover. Merlin hopes the familiar will understand the significance of the offering - items that represent the people that have meant the most to him in his life, his family new and old. He hopes that the familiar will understand that he wants to include them amongst these people, that he is willing to trust them with these items that he would trust no one else with.

Merlin takes a deep breath and begins the incantation.

“I invoke and summon you, creature of life and light. Receive the offerings I have made for you. Receive the words I have spoke for you. I entreat you to find favor with my call and summons. Enter into the circle and commune with me. Choose our fate. Accept our bond.”

Merlin closes his eyes and tips his head to the sky as he feels his power spread from his chest and down his arms. He doesn’t have to look to know the circle is glowing, spreading out from where his fingers rest against the lines to the outermost sigils.

A breeze that smells like _home_ blows past his face and he whispers into it.

“My name is Merlin. Please, come join me.”

In the cool night air, under the full moon, he waits. He waits all night, his muscles aching but refusing to move, but no creature appears. As the sun begins to rise and color the sky, he snuffs the candle, smudges the circle and closes the door to his home and his heart.

Eggsy’s ears perk up suddenly and he sleepily tries to figure out what night sound could have woken him up from his deep slumber. Except for the usual sounds of crickets chirping and the few nocturnal familiars moving about, there seems to be nothing out of the ordinary.

And yet, there he is, awake hours before dawn, something niggling at the verge of his consciousness.

He’s curious about it, but since it’s nothing that feels _urgent_ he decides to ignore it in favour of more sleep. He’s spent his entire day playing with Daisy and while he’s still somewhat young for a familiar, the chick has a boundless energy that can make it hard for him to keep up with her.

He falls back to sleep without much difficulty, but he keeps waking up and searching drowsily for whatever is keeping him from sleep.

It comes to a point where the niggling _something_ cannot be ignored anymore and by mid-morning, he finally stands up, completely alert.

He doesn’t need to look around to know that whatever is disturbing his rest, he is the only one that can feel it it. It would worry him, but there is no sense of danger, only an urging to get up and _go_.

Go _where_ he doesn’t know, but he lets his paws lead him where they will. He hesitates briefly when he finds himself closer to the house than he usually prefers, but the idea of turning back is somehow far more upsetting.

He is surprised to see one of the humans out in this kind of weather, but he feels strangely drawn to him. He would recoil from the impulse to go nearer, but he knows the man from back when he had been but a pup and even then he had been respectful of Eggsy’s boundaries, never trying to get closer even if Eggsy was one of the few familiars who actually shied away from human contact.

Still, Eggsy is careful as he makes his way under the shelter from the elements created by the table he’s sitting at. It turns out that he really shouldn’t have bothered, because the man doesn’t even seem to notice his presence.

He whines briefly, partly in frustration, partly in confusion, because even if the urging settled deep in the marrow of his bones let off slightly now that he’s at the man’s feet, it has not gone away entirely. It’s not even been a whole day and already, Eggsy feels it gnawing at his sanity.

The hand that brushes over his head mutes everything for a blessed moment, giving him the clarity of mind to figure out what is most probably happening.

His magic user is calling out to him.

Even years after Merlin has moved out of the estate, Harry still isn’t used to the overwhelming feeling of loneliness that will suddenly overcome him at the most random of times. It is the strangest of feeling, because unlike Merlin, Harry is far from being a hermit and it’s not like he’s living alone in this big house.

However, as much as he loves his family, it’s not the same as having a constant companion at his side, the very one that knows all of his secrets and dreams, the same one with whom he never needs any word to understand and be understood.

Sometimes, he thinks this is what being homesick feels like, if only you can feel that way for a person. One day, he’ll have to ask Addy, he’s sure she would know.

It never lasts for long however, because Harry has never been one to wallow in his emotions. If he can’t occupy his mind, he’ll occupy his hands, and he’ll usually become so focused on his self-appointed task, that he’ll forget all about why he even started it.

Unfortunately, today his little trick doesn’t seem to be working as well as usual. Maybe it’s because he’s truly alone at the estate, everyone else having exceptionally been called elsewhere. Maybe it’s because he would rather be designing a suit for a toad rather than the suit Chester King has requested of him. Maybe it’s the weather, grey and cloudy, the cold wind playing in his curls like a mischievous spirit.

Or maybe, it’s simply because for once, he’s truly worried for Merlin.

While he’s never been the outgoing type, lately, Harry feels the only reason he’s allowed inside his house is because he already has a key to the place and Merlin knows he would let himself in anyway. And, while before Harry could always persuade Merlin to at least go out for a bite to eat when he visited, the last couple of times, they ended up ordering in, not enough food in the fridge to even make the simplest of meal.

Merlin has not even been around to visit Addy or their parents in months, getting away with only a few calls.

Of course, Harry knows Merlin is mostly a creature of small comforts, deeply rooted in his ways, but he needs more than dusty old tomes and his thriving garden to be truly content. He hasn’t missed the aura of frustration and helplessness hanging around him on his last visit.

Unfortunately, there’s not much he can actually do, as he is quite busy himself with the tailoring business. That and he doesn’t think Merlin would appreciate his constant company.

A light drizzle starts to fall as he is pondering solutions for Merlin’s situation, ruining the sketch he was working on, but the droplets aren’t enough to chase him back inside.

A small whine makes him look down from the now unusable design and he’s shocked to see that a dog has made his way from the woods to his side without his noticing. He’s even more surprised when the dog lays at his feet under the terrace table, head leaned against his calf. Sure, the animals on the estate are friendly to a fault and smarter than anyone could imagine, but Harry recognizes the foxhound.

Of his near-drowning when he was younger, he remembers mostly the aftermath. Remembers how his parents and Addy had been over-protective for a couple of days afterwards and that Merlin had slipped into his bed every nights for a week, the two of them clinging to each other. But even if his memories of that traumatic morning are foggy at best, one thing has always been clear: the dog that had saved his life.

He had tried to find his savior again in the following weeks, to thank him somehow, but trying to find one of the animal of the estate when they don’t want to be found isn’t an easy feat. Even Adelaide hadn’t been able to help him and she knows the woods best of all.

He’s not sure what brings him so close to the house now, but carefully, he brushes his hand on top of his head and when there’s no growl to warn him off, he starts petting the foxhound with more intent.

“Hello pup. Feeling lonely too, hmm?”

He isn’t really expecting to get an answer, but he chooses to take the way the dog presses closer against his legs and his second whine as an affirmation.

“You probably even miss Merlin. I know he usually does a round of the woods when he comes to the estate. I bet he stops by wherever you’re hiding place is.” It seems halfhearted at best, but there’s a bit of tail wagging that lets Harry knows his theory is probably not wrong. “I wish he’d come for a visit, he always seems better after. He’s a loner, but he’s not made to be completely alone, you know?”

Maybe he should feel silly sharing his worries with an animal, but it’s hard to feel even remotely self-conscious when he’s being looked at with eyes that hold more intelligence than several of his clients combined. And at that last part, he would swear the dog nods, as if to say he agrees.

“Actually, I think he’s the one who needs a good snuggle. You’d be good company for him, if I think about it. At least, he would have no choice but to get out of the house once in awhile to walk you. And it would do him good to have someone to care for. Knowing him, you’d get spoiled rotten within the first week.” More likely the very first day. Merlin’s not always the best at taking care of himself, but he’s the complete opposite when he’s got someone depending on him.

The tail wagging has become more enthusiastic at Harry’s words and he knows that the animals of the estate aren’t pets, but he cannot shake the idea now that he’s had it.

“It really doesn’t sound so bad, does it?” The sharp bark sounds uncannily like a _yes_. “What do you say we give it a try, pup? I promise to bring you home if ever you want to.”

For a moment, the foxhound tenses up and it really does look like he is deliberating with himself. There’s a gleam in his eyes that is reminiscent of a cornered animal and Harry stops petting him, ready to let him bolt back to the woods.

He’s a bit surprised then when the dog seem to relax suddenly and licks his hands, his tail thumping hard against the legs of the table.

“That a yes?” He’s pretty sure the dog rolls his eyes right before he gets up, his muddy front paws resting on Harry’s knees, and lets out another sharp bark. “Alright then. Wanna go now?”

He’s barely finished his question that the dog is running towards the door, only coming back on his steps to push against Harry’s legs when he decides he’s not moving fast enough to his liking.

With any luck, Merlin will share the dog’s enthusiasm, but somehow, Harry doubts it.

Merlin startles awake to the sound of someone knocking at the door. By the rhythm of it he guesses it must be Harry, and he wonders why the man hasn’t just let himself in already. As the knocking continues, he stares up through the windows and contemplates ignoring Harry completely.

He hadn’t had the energy after coming inside to do anything more than flop on the couch in the solarium and fall into an exhausted sleep. A glance to the clock tells him that it’s well into the afternoon, but he still feels far from ready to do anything other than sleep for several more days.

He looks down at his clothes, trousers wrinkled and jumper less than fresh, and knows that he’s going to get an earful from Harry about it. Resigned to a lecture, but hoping perhaps Harry has brought some food, Merlin unfolds himself from the couch and heads to the front door.

“Harry, bloody hell, just let…” The words die on Merlin’s tongue as he takes in the sight in front of him.

There is nothing unusual about Harry himself. He’s dressed in a suit, hair styled and gelled, umbrella hanging from his arm. It’s the foxhound that is patiently sitting by his side that has Merlin peeking his head out the door and looking around for some sort of explanation.

He has no collar or leash, but he doesn’t try to rush in through the open door. His eyes are a vivid aquamarine and they stare at  him as though expecting something. There is something familiar about this dog, and Merlin thinks he remembers a similar creature roaming the estate.

“It would have been rude of me to just bring the dog in unannounced, especially if you were in the middle of something sensitive,” Harry says before taking in Merlin’s rumpled clothes and bleary eyes with a frown. “May we come in?”

Silently, Merlin steps back and lets them in. He closes the door, and turns to find the pup spinning in a slow circle, nose furiously sniffing at the new smells.

“He’s from the estate.” It’s not a question, the memory of a warm summer day and a foxhound with a bird on its head now in the forefront of Merlin’s mind.

Harry just nods and Merlin lets out an exasperated sigh. “Harry, what were you thinking? The animals belong on the estate. Addy must not have been home, she never would have let you take one of them out for a joyride.”

Merlin looks down and the dog has stopped turning around. He comes over and presses his nose to his hand and Merlin can’t help the way his fingers instinctively reach back to curl into the fur at his neck.

“It wasn’t a joyride, Merlin. I decided to bring the pup to stay with you.” Merlin’s hand falls away from the dog, and he only absently notices when he trots away to explore the house.

“You what?! Harry, I’ll not be responsible for a pet. You know I’m busy with my contracts for Valentine. I don’t have the time or energy to be minding a dog too. Plus, I’m a wizard! My lab is connected to my kitchen, it’s not safe for him here.”

Harry’s frown deepens. “If there is a dog that is going to be mindful of your magic, it’s going to be one from the estate. And your work is one of the reasons I brought him. When was the last time you left the house? Or interacted with anyone or anything other than your plants?”

Merlin’s still raw from the previous night's failure, and he is in no mood to discuss the merits of a pet. But it’s obvious that Harry is going to force the issue, and he scowls. Gesturing in the direction of the couch, he moves to open a bottle of scotch.

When he returns to the couch he sits opposite Harry, handing him a tumbler and bringing another to his mouth for a generous drink.

“It’s a bit early for a drink,” Harry says before taking a sip of his own.

“That’s never stopped you before.”

Harry just looks at him for a moment before setting his tumbler aside. “Alright, enough. You’ve been absolutely miserable for weeks now, but this is by far the worst. Bloody hell, Merlin, _what_ is going on?”

Merlin’s shoulders sag and he drains his glass. “The Valentine contracts are becoming difficult. I’m hitting the limits of my skills and it’s taking enormous amounts of energy to keep working.”

“Well obviously you’re not doing yourself any good trying to just push through it. You look like shite,” Harry interjects.

Merlin stares at Harry, unimpressed, until he raises his hands in mock surrender.

“A few weeks ago I stumbled across a book about familiars. It talked about how their magic can join with a wizard’s and aid them when they form a bond.” Merlin avoids mentioning the companionship and completeness of sharing his magic that such a bond would create. “My research didn’t come up with a lot about the process of calling them, but I decided to try a summoning spell anyways.”

Merlin closes his eyes and rests his head on the back of the couch, ready for this conversation to be over. But when he opens his mouth to continue he finds that the words won’t come.

He works hard, is never anything other than the best at what he does. The only person who has ever seen him when he’s faltered is Harry, but this feels like too much. A failure not of his skill but of his merit, deemed unsuitable for a familiar, and he hesitates to let even Harry see it.

Merlin startles when Harry takes his hand and squeezes once before letting go. “There’s more. Tell me the rest.”

Merlin opens his eyes but can’t meet Harry’s gaze. “I cast the spell last night and I was sure it worked. But I waited until dawn for something to appear...” Merlin fiddles with his glass, unable to actually say out loud that no familiar wanted him. “So forgive me if I’m not interested in the consolation prize of a _pet_.”

“I’m sorry, Merlin, I truly am,” Harry says, voice sincere. For a moment Merlin actually thinks Harry might drop it, but then he continues. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a mess and it needs fixing. The dog is staying.”

Merlin looks over and begins to protest, but Harry just holds up his hand and keeps going. “You need more than just your books and your plants, you always have even if you’ll never admit it. If in a couple of weeks you are still a miserable git, and the pup is nothing but a nuisance, I’ll see he’s brought back to the estate. Until then, I’m leaving him here and you’d best take care of him. If you don’t, I’ll see to it that Addy is told of your neglect.”

Merlin stares and then shakes his head in defeat. Leave it to Harry to resort to blackmail. “Fine. Another drink?”

“Just some tea. And perhaps you could imbue it with some magic against bullheadedness and headaches.”

Merlin can’t help the small smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. He still longs for a familiar, but maybe Harry is right. At least a dog from the estate might respect the magic of the house. He sighs and gets up to put on the kettle and see if he has anything in the fridge that he can feed his new pup.

Being in the city is an entirely new experience to Eggsy and he’s still unsure if his opinion of it is favorable or not. One thing’s for sure, it is far busier here than it ever was on the estate.

Even if he won’t pass any judgement yet, he can’t say he’s unhappy when Harry quietly leads him towards the entrance of what looks like quite the cozy townhouse. It’s with some relief that he follows the man inside once the front door finally opens, escaping the numerous smells he cannot make head or tails of yet. That is definitely something he’ll have to get used to.

The inside of the house proves to be exactly what one would presume from the outside. Cozy, quiet, tidy… The only surprising detail is the smell, a mix of rich earth and vegetation, tea and spices, old paper and electricity. It’s a smell that makes Eggsy feels right at home.

A single deep breath and the urging that had made Eggsy so restless finally fades out, leaving only tranquility in its wake.

Harry having warned him in the car that their welcome might not be all that warm, he doesn’t wait to be invited to do so before starting to explore what is to become his new territory.

He leaves the two men to their argument, but not before having established that the ozone smell comes from Merlin. Of course, his smell is more intricate than this, but he must have done some magic recently because the scent so reminiscent to lightning overpowers everything else on his skin and clothes.

Next is the contradictory smell of dust and dampness from the multitude of old tomes on the bookshelves lined up one wall. Some books are much newer, but the scent of new ink barely register to Eggsy’s nose.

Tea and spices comes from the kitchen, unsurprisingly. Years upon years of cooking and brewing have been enough to imbue the very walls of the room with the scents.

When he turns away from the sink to continue his exploration, he is somewhat surprised to realise he completely missed the fact that part of the kitchen has been converted into a solarium. It is no wonder he felt so at ease here, within what is practically a bubble of pure nature in the middle of the city’s concrete.

From here, he can see the small but luxurious garden in the backyard and it doesn’t take long before the previously locked door leading outside opens up to him.

He makes it a few steps out before coming to a full stop, waiting for the magic contained in the circle he’s breached without noticing to settle around him. There is something familiar to it, not like the other animals at the estate, but something that runs deeper, stronger, _older_ . It would be scary if it didn’t feel _right_ and it doesn’t even cross his mind to try and fight the link bonding him to what he knows is Merlin’s magic.

There is a little shimmer around him once the circle finally dispels, but Eggsy takes a moment to feel around the new bond between him and his magic user. It’s weak for now, but pulsing lightly with warmth and longing, making him wish he could somehow wrap himself around it, much like he did whenever Merlin would fall asleep in his territory when he was still a boy.

The cry of a bird soon distracts him from his musings and he returns his attention to what lays before his eyes.

His tail wags happily as he investigates the well-maintained garden. Sure, it could use a bit of help to reach _perfection_ but it is undeniably tended frequently and with a marked attention to detail.

He quickly loses track of the time, going from flower to plants to trees in an endless round, opening all his senses to the magic flowing around him in order to give a gentle nudge in the right direction so that everything would grow stronger. It will take far more than the work of a single day, but Eggsy has rarely felt such a sense of purpose and accomplishment such as he is right now.

The sun has started to set when the two men join him outside, sitting at the little table that is overrun with ivy and it feels entirely natural to Eggsy to finally stop what he is doing and come to rest at Merlin’s feet.

The man still looks a bit unsure about the whole affair, a bit sad even for some reason, but Eggsy doesn’t let it bother him.

For now, he is simply happy that Harry’s prediction that he would be spoiled is on point, if he is to judge by the quality meat he’s served for the evening meal.

It feels like a very good start to their cohabitation.

It’s been about a month since Merlin had called for him and whatever reservations he had left about being bound to a human have long since vanished.

He’s probably not the easiest man to live with by far, mostly because he can get so focused on his brewing he’ll sometime forget for hours that there is more to the world than his cauldron, but he is slowly getting better at heeding Eggsy’s barking when he ought to take a break.

He also stubbornly refuses to let Eggsy sleep on his bed, which led him to retaliate by sleeping on the couch and getting chewed out every morning about the fur he leaves behind, but Eggsy won’t get near the dog bed for anything in the world.

Except for that though, Eggsy doesn’t have much to complain about.

He might not look like it, but Merlin is actually a very affectionate man and not a day passes without him petting and grooming Eggsy. And if he’s got something against fur on the furniture, he doesn’t seem to mind being slobbered all over.

Merlin always feeds Eggsy on time and he’s soon started to eat with him after Eggsy took to staring at him intently when he realised the man was about to skip another meal. He doesn’t know if Merlin feels it, but he knows the man now has far more energy than on the day Eggsy first came to him.

The absolute best though is when they take care of the garden together. The solarium and numerous house plants too, but they demand much less work since they aren’t exposed to the elements.

Working on the garden has helped him figure out Merlin’s particular brand of magic and his thought process, has helped him understand what exactly the man needs from him.

It turns out to be simple enough, just a helping paw, but it doesn’t take long before Eggsy starts to find new ways to assist him and not just while they are tending to the plants.

Now Eggsy also helps him when he’s brewing his potions, Merlin so focused on the task at hand that he never realises that everything he requires is always just within reach. And Eggsy might not know the first thing about potion making, but he knows nature and the flows of magic. More than once already, he’s nudged Merlin in the right direction after he has hit a wall.

The thing he does the most however, is to make sure Merlin doesn’t deplete himself completely. For a magic user, he’s got some amazing control, but drawing magic is like breathing for Eggsy. Merlin’s not at that level yet, probably won’t ever be in fact, so Eggsy takes it upon himself to monitor their bond and never letting it grow weak on either side.

He wishes he could say the bond is getting stronger by the minute, but in all honesty, Eggsy feels like something is preventing it from blooming fully. He suspects that whatever it is, it’s coming from Merlin rather than him. Not that he’s overly concerned by it. He’s willing to give it time.

A seed doesn’t grow into a tree within the span of a day after all.

Right now, it’s not even on his list of priorities, unlike that potion that has had Merlin frustrated for days.

After a lot of whining, Eggsy finally convinces Merlin to take a day off and make a little trip to the Hart estate. Not that the man would realise that it had been Eggsy’s end goal, because he just seems to think Eggsy missed running around the grounds.

He’s not entirely wrong, Eggsy _does_ miss it, but he’s far happier keeping company to Merlin, feeling _useful_ , instead of wasting his days _waiting_.

However, even though he wants nothing more than to just run free, he still stays a bit with Merlin when they arrive at the estate, leading him to where Harry is sitting at the terrace table, sketching.

It reminds him of that rainy day he felt the calling, except there isn’t a cloud in the sky and Harry is all open smiles and amusement instead of deep frowns and worries.

Once he ascertains Merlin isn’t going to hole himself up in the library, he leaves the two men to their good-natured bickering.

He runs mindlessly for a while, until he feels a prickle of _something_ along the edge of his consciousness. Magic is gently pulling him towards the forest, in a part he’s rarely set paws in, but he understands why as soon as he catches of the blooming flowers in the middle of the clearing. This is exactly what has been missing for the potion Merlin has been working on so painstakingly.

He’s in the middle of carefully digging out a few of them, unsure which part exactly Merlin will need, when he feels a familiar weight settle on top of his head.

_Eggsy! Eggsy! You’re back! You’re back here! Why? You were called!_

Daisy sounds puzzled rather than worried, which is the only reason he lets himself laughs over her barrage of tweets before answering her patiently.

_Yes, I’ve been called, but Merlin’s visiting the Harts so I followed him for a visit too._

_Merlin? Storyteller Merlin?_ Her chirping has turned slightly awed and he can feel her jumping up and down his head with excitement. _How is it? Does he read to you a lot? Is he nice? Harry’s nice! I bet Merlin’s just as nice!_

He’s not surprised to hear her mention Harry. None of the Harts have ever been magic users themselves, but Eggsy has come to realise that they are tied to the lands as much as the familiars are. If some of them are happy to let them go about their business undisturbed, others like Adelaide and Harry are willing to form some attachments with them. Seeing Daisy resting on Harry’s shoulders when he works outside isn’t unusual at all.

 _Yes, Merlin’s nice._ A few weeks ago, Eggsy would never have been willing to admit it, even to Daisy, but a lot has changed since the calling and resulting bond. He’s gained a better understanding of the world and his place in it for one, as well as an intimate knowledge of exactly what kind of man Merlin is. _He’s usually too busy to read, but he’s done it a couple of times since I’ve been living with him._

One time during a thunderstorm, where Merlin had relented for once and let Eggsy curl up at his side on the couch, his words so captivating that he had forgotten all about the raging elements outside.

Another time had been to while away a lazy afternoon, Merlin in the tub and Eggsy resting on the bath mat, amusing himself by directing the unintentional magic Merlin had been putting off to the potted plants lining up nearly every flat surfaces of the room.

His mind is still on the memory of the slightly damp hand that had come to pet his head when a second bird lands just in front of him.

_And what exactly do you think you are doing here?_

He flinches at Michelle’s frosty tone, but one look at her is enough to realise that she isn’t mad at him so much as worried about him. Which, considering his spotty past with humans, she has all the rights to be. Before he can say anything however, Daisy flies over to Michelle, completely oblivious to her mood.

_Eggsy’s visiting! With Merlin! The storyteller! He reads him stories and he’s nice! Like Harry!_

That earns him a sharp look, but as soon as he nods to indicate that what Daisy is saying is true, Michelle’s entire demeanor softens.

_I’m okay really. Just getting a few flowers for him._

No longer needing to be careful not to dislodge Daisy from her perch when he’s moving around, he returns to his digging while answering Michelle’s little interrogation of what’s happened since he left.

By the time he’s done, Michelle is satisfied and reassured, and she flops down on his back with Daisy for the walk back to the house. He’s expecting it when she starts picking at his fur gently, even if he knows he’s never been cleaner than since he’s started living with Merlin.

He doesn’t tell her off though, enjoying her actions for what they are, a proof that she is still caring for him as if he was still her overgrown chick.

“What do you mean you haven’t named him yet? It’s been months. What have you been calling him?”

Merlin turns his head and focuses intently on the flowers growing by the railing. Now that Harry has said it out loud, it does seem a bit ridiculous. But everything he’d thought of as a name had felt wrong somehow.

“I don’t have to call to him that often. He always seems to know when I’m talking to him. And pup seems to work just fine when I do need his attention.”

“Besides,” Merlin says, squaring his shoulders and meeting Harry’s eyes, “you are one to talk. I seem to remember a thirteen year old boy who insisted that father buy him a yorkshire terrier for his birthday and planned to name it Mr. Pickle.”

Thankfully no such creature was subjected to the dreadful name when Ian told Harry that there were enough animals on the estate already.

“It was a perfectly fine name,” Harry says indignantly, brushing some imaginary lint off his jacket.

Merlin scoffs and a comfortable silence falls between them.

It’s nice to be back at the estate. Merlin knows he’s been holed up inside his house far too much, but it’s simple to get lost in the work. He’d never admit it, especially to Harry, but he’s glad for the pup’s presence. Since he’s come to live with him, Merlin’s found himself more focused when he’s working, more relaxed when he’s not, and it’s easier to find time to leave the house when he wants to be sure the pup is well cared for. This trip to the estate is a much needed excursion, for both of them.

Movement at the edge of the yard catches his attention and he chuckles when he realizes what it is. Harry turns in his seat to see what has Merlin smiling, and lets out his own snort of amusement.

The foxhound’s head bobs up and down as he walks back towards the house. Two birds are settled in against his back and, even stranger, he is carefully carrying a bunch of wildflowers in his mouth.

Maybe it’s because of his magic, or maybe it’s because he has always refused to take anything for granted, but Merlin has a hard time ignoring the peculiarity of the animals here. So while Harry turns back around, content to return to his sketchbook, Merlin can’t stop staring even with the sun shining in his eyes.

As the pup draws closer, he squints harder against the light and Merlin suddenly doesn’t trust what he’s seeing. Every time the pup’s paws touch the ground, it looks like a flood of wildflowers bloom around them, and every time they are lifted they disappear to leave only bright green grass.

As he rubs his hands against his eyes he wonders if he is somehow projecting his magic without realizing. But when he looks back the strange sight is forgotten, the dog close enough for him to finally identify the flowers in his mouth. Bluebells. In an instant Merlin is lost to thoughts of calculations and measurements and magical potions.

Merlin and Harry haven’t moved from where Eggsy’s left them, even if they look on his approach with clear bemusement.

Not that he can blame them. Even here on the estate, a dog holding bluebells securely between his teeth and carrying two birds on his back is a most unusual sight. Add to it that one of the birds is holding its own flower in its beak -- Daisy having insisted on imitating her brother and bringing back her namesake for Harry -- and they must look quite peculiar indeed.

The men’s surprise doesn’t last long, Harry chuckling with delight at his offering and sliding the stem in the buttonhole of his shirt while Merlin gets that manic gleam in his eyes that means he’s just figured out a particularly frustrating problem.

However, instead of taking the bluebells and running all the way to his lab as Eggsy half-expects him to do, Merlin accepts the flowers before discarding them on the table, kneeling on the ground in front of him and starts petting him with more enthusiasm than he’s ever displayed since they’ve started living together.

“Pup, I don’t think you realise how brilliant you are.”

Michelle, having settled on the table near the flowers, falls over herself by laughing too much over the praise. Merlin is seriously clueless if he hasn’t notice just how smug Eggsy has been acting.

But Eggsy doesn’t care what she thinks, not when he’s getting the best scratches behind the ears he’s ever gotten in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	5. Chapter 5

It doesn’t take Eggsy very long to figure out that while Merlin isn’t exactly clumsy per se, his focus on small things can become so great that he forgets all about the world around him. Eggsy is lucky he’s got the reflexes and instincts to avoid having his tail stepped on and to skitter out of the way before the man can trip on him, but the same cannot be said of Merlin’s equipment.

It’s a wonder Merlin’s survived all these years without inadvertently impaling himself on a knife or setting himself on fire without Eggsy looking out for him.

Nowadays, that’s how he uses his innate magic when he isn’t nudging their little oasis of vegetation into growing ever stronger.

But, magic or not, he’s still just a dog and paws make it very hard to catch the falling mugs of tea and he’s stopped counting how many of them have shattered on the ground in the few months he’s lived with Merlin.

So when Merlin pushes yet another mug over the edge of his worktable and he just manages to catch it in time, it barely registers that he’s done so with a hand and that he’s suddenly looking at the world from a much higher vantage point.

“Seriously mate, learn to be careful or, you know, just don’t bring tea here when you work?” He puts the mug back on the table, far enough that Merlin won’t be in any danger to knock it off again, wishing he could have set it down more forcefully without fear of breaking it just to illustrate how irritated he is right now.

Merlin simply mumbles an apology, his attention entirely taken with his careful measuring of the ground betony’s petals needed for his potion. Eggsy huffs, but he’s not so petty as to make the man ruin hours of work over a simple mug.

“You’ll need a pinch more of that, that rosewater is more potent than usual,” he points out helpfully before retreating back from the table.

The only indication that Merlin has heard him is when he adds the pinch and Eggsy rolls his eyes. Really, he better get a nice steak tonight in order to make up for how infuriating Merlin has been today.

He can’t help but smile however when the potion turns the right hue. Merlin has no more excuses not to take a well-deserved break now and Eggsy really needs to stretch out his legs, they’re weirdly sore for some reason. All of his body is.

Before he can suggest they go for a walk however, Merlin tenses up and grabs one of the paring knives from the table and spins around to face him, the blade dangerously close to his face.

“Woah there!” He takes a few steps back while raising his arms without thinking. He’d rather have his hands cut than lose an eye, thank you very much. “Be careful where you point that thing!”

“Who the hell are you? And how did you get in?”

For a moment, he thinks it’s some kind of very bad joke, but there is no denying the very real fear coming from Merlin through their bond. He tries his best to soothe the emotion, but somehow, that only makes Merlin tense up more.

“Answer me!”

“Seriously mate, you should lower that before you hurt someone. And you don’t have to yell. I got in by the front door, same as you. A door you opened up to me by the way. And what do you mean, who am I? I’m Eggsy, we’ve been living together for months now.”

His attempts at calming the man down are obviously not working, but as long as he doesn’t actually stab him, Eggsy is willing to continue trying.

“I don’t know anyone by that name. And I think I’d know if someone was living here besides me and my dog!”

That gives Eggsy a moment pause before he looks down at his own body, realising for the first time that he is no longer in canine form.

“Huh, okay, that’s new. Didn’t know that could happen.” He looks with amazement at his own hands and the clothes covering his body, curious as to how the latter came to be. “No wonder you’re acting all weird, but really Merlin it’s me. Eggsy. Not that you’ve ever called me that, but ‘pup’ is fine too, I guess.”

“You're trying to tell me that you're my dog?”

“Well, yes. Though I’d rather you say familiar if you don’t mind.” He has never been picky before now, but being called a dog instead of a familiar implies ownership rather than partnership and Eggsy refuses to be seen as anything but an equal.

“That’s… That’s impossible. The spell didn’t work.”

“Of course it did or I wouldn’t be here now. Though you should thank Harry, it’d have taken much longer if he hadn’t given me a lift.”

He winces when the knife clatters on the ground, but he prefers it there instead of still in Merlin’s hand.

“I think I need a drink.”

Merlin usually isn’t one to start drinking in the middle of the afternoon, but Eggsy really isn’t one to judge so he merely shrugs.

“Sure, give me a moment and I’ll fetch it for you.” He makes to turn, but thinks better of it. “You should sit down you know… You look like a breeze could topple you over.”

He expects some protest, what with Merlin being a stubborn man and all, but the other man blindly reaches for the stool he keeps in his lab. When he’s sure he’s sitting on it and that he won’t fall on his arse, Eggsy finally turns towards the kitchen, but not before bending down to retrieve the fallen knife.

“Alright. Be right back with that drink.”

His first thought when the lad mentions Harry’s name is _it worked_. It didn’t happen the way he’d expected, not even close, but it _did_ happen. All this time thinking that he wasn’t good enough for a familiar, that none wanted to answer his call. Instead his dog, his familiar, _Eggsy_ , had simply hitched a ride with his best friend from his childhood home, and then let him think he was just a normal pet. Merlin wants to laugh at the absurdity but instead forces the urge down.

His mind is in overdrive, running in dozens of different directions to make sense of the sudden turn of events, but most importantly working to figure out what has caused Eggsy to take on a human form. Even taken off guard as he is, Merlin still recognizes the boy’s curiosity of his new shape and knows it to be genuine.

Eggsy’s voice is tinged with concern when he tells Merlin to sit down. It’s a nice voice, he thinks distantly. In amongst the other thoughts, he wonders where Eggsy picked up the accent. For that matter where those clothes came from, and why in the world Eggsy would have chosen that pattern.

All the other trains of thought stop, however, when Eggsy bends over and picks up the knife. The only thought currently on his mind is that Eggsy has the finest arse that Merlin’s seen in years, even in those terrible track pants.

Merlin’s eyes widen and he immediately takes that thought and every single of his tumultuous emotions - his confusion at the situation, his hurt at having spent all this time not knowing who Eggsy was, his hope for the future - and locks them away.

He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes with his other hand. He has to get himself under control. It’s absolutely not appropriate for him to be thinking just how attractive Eggsy is. He doesn’t know anything about his familiar or what they are going to do now that he’s human. He’d been prepared for an animal familiar, but a human one brings complications that he’d never even consider.

Sitting up, Merlin slips his glasses back on and forces himself to think. The first thing he needs to do is consult more books. His initial research had been focused on the summoning and what he should expect from a bond with a familiar. He hadn’t been looking for anything referencing familiars in human form, and it’s possible he missed something.

Eggsy returns then with a tumbler of scotch. He holds it out and Merlin takes it, but instead of taking a drink he sets it to the side. With a determined expression he looks up into Eggsy’s curious eyes. Now that he’s paying attention, he’s not sure how he didn’t recognize those eyes immediately.

“Thank you, but I’ve changed my mind. I need to go to the estate. The library there has books I don’t have, and I might be able to find something to explain what’s going on.” Merlin stands up and brushes past Eggsy, heading towards the door. He’s halfway there before he realizes that Eggsy is still where he left him, looking irritated at the situation.

Suddenly Merlin feels like an awkward teen again, trying to talk to someone new. “Are you coming? I have questions but they can wait until we’re driving. Car’s this way.”

“I know that,” Eggsy mutters as Merlin turns back to the door.

He sighs. “Sorry. Let’s just get this figured out.” Merlin hopes he can find what he’s looking for because he’s way out of his depth.

Once he steps out of the car, Eggsy heaves a sigh of relief. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy the ride to the Hart estate, but it would have been far better if Merlin had, even for a second, stopped asking him questions he had no answer to. That he could feel the man’s frustration growing after each shrug only made things worse.

His hopes to escape to the forest and seek Michelle’s help are dashed when Merlin rounds the car and seize him by the elbow before walking towards the house with determination. Still, even though his hold is strong, there is an underlying gentleness to it, as if Merlin is afraid he’ll hurt him and it’s the only reason Eggsy doesn’t struggle against it, choosing to follow him inside instead. Sure, he has no true desire to be cooped up in the library, but it’s not like he wants to leave Merlin when he’s in that state either.

The last time he had felt Merlin that confused was years before, back when he was just a boy and he would still make little excursions to Eggsy’s territory. Those rare instances where he would just fall asleep against a maple tree, unaware that Eggsy was there in the shadows, guarding his dreams.

Merlin lets go of him once they cross the threshold of the library and for a moment, Eggsy stays frozen in place, staring with awe around the room. It is no wonder that Merlin’s collection of books is so impressive if he’s grown up with the Hart’s library opened to him. Eggsy doesn’t have much care for books, what with him not knowing how to read and all, but he can picture himself willingly getting lost in a pile of old tomes once or twice if he gets to do it here.

Merlin obviously knows where everything is because he starts pulling books from the shelves without any hesitation and soon, he’s immersed in his reading.

Eggsy finally walks into the room properly, wandering close to the walls and letting his fingers trail lightly over the spines of the books, his eyes half-closed. He might not know how to read, but maybe magic will show him whatever Merlin’s looking for. By the time he’s made a complete turn of the room, he’s a bit disappointed to have felt no particular pull.

While he’s not freaking out about it like Merlin is, he cannot deny he’s slightly curious about how he came to take a human form. He’s never heard of a familiar doing this, but his intuition tells him it must have something to do with his bond with Merlin more than anything. He’ll need to speak with Michelle before they leave, see if she knows more about what usually happens after a calling. Maybe she doesn’t, but it’s not like he’s ever asked her in the past since he never had any interest in his magic user until he felt the calling.

It is astonishing how much that has changed since he’s started living with Merlin. He still has no interest in humans in general, but he’d be a fool to try and deny how _right_ everything feels now that they are sharing their lives together.

Just as he would be a fool to pretend it doesn’t hurt that Merlin seems to have completely shut him out after having accepted that Eggsy was probably telling the truth. He can only hope it’s the shock of it all and that Merlin will soon get his head out of his arse as he takes a seat near the man, opting for physical closeness if he’s to be denied the other’s emotions.

“I didn’t believe it when Rosinda told me she saw you come in and make a beeline for the library. I should have known that the only time you would drop by without calling first would be for those dusty old books.”

Harry makes sure to keep his tone light and teasing, not wanting Merlin to realise just how worried he is by the unannounced visit. The last thing he wants is for Merlin to clam up and not explain the reason behind such uncharacteristic behaviour. However, before Merlin can start to reply, Harry’s eyes finally fall on the stranger next to him and he feels even more puzzled than a second ago.

The last time Merlin brought anyone to the estate was back when they had still been at school and it had usually been in order to work on a team project. Not only that, but Harry is acquainted with all of Merlin’s friends and he would remember having met such a handsome young man. But unsettling circumstances or not, Harry is still a gentleman and it wouldn’t do not to introduce himself when it’s pretty clear that Merlin isn’t going to do it.

“Oh, I hadn’t noticed you had company! I’m Harry Hart, I’m Merlin’s adoptive brother and oldest friend.” He offers his hand and is pleased when the young man takes it after a little moment of hesitation, shaking it gently but with confidence.

“I’m Eggsy.”

An unusual name, that’s for sure, but that’s not why Harry is staring intently at Merlin as he lets go of the young man’s hand. No, what he is waiting for is a good explanation as to why he’s never even heard a offhanded mention of that name in the last few months, when it is very obvious by Eggsy’s sheer presence _here_ , in the library of all places, that he must be someone important and dear to Merlin.

Very dear.

Of course, he understands Merlin’s desire to keep Eggsy’s existence to himself and not have to deal with any well-meaning meddling from friends and family. But he had thought Merlin would trust him with such a secret, let him know that his new-found peace of mind was not only due to his canine companion, but from having formed a meaningful connection to someone Harry is sure must be a remarkable young man. Clothes notwithstanding.

Not everyone has the luck of having grown up in a renowned family of tailors after all.

“Eggsy is… He’s my d- my familiar...”

Had it been anyone else, say James, Harry would have believed it to be a joke. But that kind of dubious humor isn’t Merlin’s style and so Harry simply takes the explication at face value when Eggsy shows no sign of protesting. It doesn’t stop him from being curious about the whole matter however, especially since Merlin had said very little about the whole familiar deal the first and only time he had mentioned it.

“I thought they were supposed to be animals?” At least, he thinks that’s what Merlin had said at the time, but to be quite honest, he had been more worried about the deep lines of exhaustion etched on his face.

He can see Merlin is about to answer, only to close his mouth, jaw clenched with something that looks like frustration. Harry thinks for a moment that he’ll have to wring the answers out of him, but he’s pleasantly surprised when Eggsy doesn’t seem to have any objections to satisfying his curiosity.

“I am, I’m the dog you brought Merlin a while back. Didn’t know I could turn into a human but eh, here I am.” He looks defiant and unapologetic, as if he expects Harry to give him shit about this. He wonders what might have happened to elicit such a reaction from him, because frankly, he would have accepted any answer as the truth. He freely admits to having a certain fascination with magic, or at least with Merlin performing magic, but not enough to do any research of his own on subjects that don’t affect him directly, unlike Addy.

“The foxhound?” He doesn’t know why he asks since it’s not like he’s in the habit of bringing dogs to Merlin, but Eggsy doesn’t make fun of him for it.

“Yep, that was me. Thanks for the lift by the way.”

“Oh, well you’re more than welcome. Glad I could be of any assistance.” Eggsy returns his smile earnestly if somewhat awkwardly, as if unsure how to control his facial muscles in such subtleties yet, and this more than anything convinces him that they are indeed telling the truth. “Am I right in thinking that the reason for the unannounced visit and Merlin’s somewhat impressive scowl is that he didn’t know that this could happen either? You turning into a human I mean?”

The dark look Merlin sends him for the little jab might have made a lesser man flinch, but Harry works for men infused with self-importance everyday. His skin has been impervious to such things for a very long time already.

“I’m trying to see if there’s anything written about such a thing that I could have missed on a previous reading.”

He doesn’t know if Eggsy’s snort is in reaction to what he said or the face Harry pulled, but he’s sure they both agree that it is unlikely that Merlin would have missed such a detail.

Had he thought otherwise, Harry would have proposed his help looking into the dusty old books, but as he is pretty sure they won’t find anything about the why and the how, he prefers focusing on what really interests him.

“What about the clothes?”

“What about them?” Eggsy seems entirely nonplussed as he looks down at his own clothing. “Something’s wrong?”

“You just had to ask,” Merlin groans after a sidelong glance to Eggsy, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to ward off a migraine.

“Well, nothing is _wrong_ ,” for once, Harry decides to completely ignore Merlin and focus on the real emergency at hand, “but everything could be better. So much better.” It’s hard to say for sure with how loosely Eggsy’s clothes are hanging off of him, but he is somewhat of an expert in the matters. Given half a chance, Harry could do wonders for Eggsy’s figure. “Are you particularly attached to what you’re wearing?”

“Erm, not really? I mean, they just kinda appeared at the same time I became human.”

“Good. Then you must allow me to take your measurements and make you a few things that are going to be much more flattering than this.” Already, he can imagine the kind of wardrobe he’d like to see him in, something that would compliment Eggsy’s body and complement Merlin’s style.

“Sure, why not? It’s not like I’m doing anything useful.” There is a wistfulness in his voice and dejection in his eyes that makes Harry feel strangely protective and he vows to have strong words with Merlin later about whatever he must have done to make Eggsy feel that way.

His train of thought is interrupted by Merlin’s annoyed sigh.

“If you are enough of a fool to encourage him into giving you a wardrobe change, can you at least go somewhere else? Maybe you don’t care, but _I_ would like to find out how this is all happening.”

He’s tempted to have those words with Merlin right now, but he knows from experience that if he doesn’t defuse the situation somehow they’ll all end up saying things they’ll regret.

“But of course, it’s not like I carry around my tape everywhere I go anyway.” He rolls his eyes, but softens the gesture with a smile for Eggsy’s benefit. “If the gentleman would follow me, we’ll leave Mr Grumpy to his research and do something a bit more productive.”

There’s only a slight hesitation before Eggsy takes his offered arm, a lingering look at Merlin before he heeds the shake of Harry’s head for what it is. Merlin isn’t fit for company at the moment and they’d be best to leave him until he gets his head out of his arse.

“You’ll know where to find us,” he still throws over his shoulder as they leave the heavy atmosphere of the library behind, and he puts his mind to forgetting all about Merlin proving once again that he can be a right git.

For now, he’s got some work to do and it’s always so much more pleasant and fun when the subject is both willing and inspiring.

When Merlin finally closes the last book and sets it aside, he still has no idea what’s caused Eggsy to gain human form. He considers what to do next, and decides he’ll have to contact some of the others in London’s magical community to see if they have any insight, despite that meaning he’ll have to explain the situation. He has no desire to parade his personal business around for everyone to gossip about, but he’s not sure there is any other choice.

He stretches his arms above his head and looks out the window to see that it’s dark. It must be well past dinner time. With a sigh, he gets up and heads out of the library and towards Harry’s workshop. Eggsy may no longer be a dog, but he’s still Merlin’s responsibility and he should make sure that he gets something to eat. Harry is just as apt as him to get absorbed in his work and completely forget about meals.

It’s a quick walk through the house to the room that Harry has taken for his tailoring work. Most of the time he works at the Kingsman shop, but sometimes Harry needs the space, especially when he’s working on one of his personal projects rather than something for a client. Just as the library has always been his sanctuary, Merlin learned to respect Harry’s space ever since he started as an apprentice.

So when he approaches the open door to the workshop, Merlin takes a moment to observe quietly from the hallway.

Eggsy and Harry are standing off to the side, looking at some sketches strewn over the table. Eggsy’s brightly patterned jacket has been thrown across the chair in the corner, and the stool and tape measure have been abandoned in the middle of the room. They look deep in conversation, and Merlin hesitates against interrupting.

“I ain’t exactly got any experience choosing this sorta stuff.”

“I know, but certainly you must have thoughts about the things you like and things you don’t.” Harry pauses with a thoughtful expression, then kneels down to reach under the table. Merlin watches as he methodically pulls out several bolts of fabric, then crosses to the shelves to rummage around for a few more. They all end up placed on top of the table for Eggsy to see.

“Since you don’t really know what you’ll want it to look like, let’s try a different approach. Do you trust my judgement on aesthetic?” Eggsy tilts his head, a facsimile of what Merlin has seen him do dozens of times as a dog, and then nods. Harry smiles and takes Eggsy’s hand carefully to lay against the nearest fabric. “Then touch these and tell me which one _feels_ better.”

Merlin watches Eggsy’s face as he curiously reaches out to touch each of the fabrics. For a moment he thinks he can feel Eggsy’s wonder, the texture of the materials so different from the feel of grass under his paws or hands in his fur. But then he’s distracted by the pull of magic as Eggsy uses his to reach out to each one.

“These fabrics… did you choose them knowing how they’d interact with my magic?”

Harry nods. “When I started as a tailor, I was taught to choose fabrics as our shop had traditionally done. Certain fabrics for certain types of clothes and that was just the way it was done, and our clients never complained. That the majority of our clients are magical probably should have clued us in.

“It wasn’t until I made Merlin his first suit that I figured it out, thanks to some experimentation on his part. I guess that when the shop was first started, clients started asking for items to be made from certain fabrics, and it was so popular it became the Kingsman standard. No one ever bothered to ask _why_ those fabrics were preferred.”

Harry gestures to the table and smiles smugly. “Now I’m our resident expert on the magical properties of fabrics.”

“Should I not ask about the kind of experiments you and Merlin did?” Eggsy’s tone is joking, but Merlin can see his brow furrow like he’s unsure if he’s allowed to ask about Merlin’s past.

Harry must also notice Eggsy’s unease because his amusement at the question quickly turns sour. “You can ask whatever you’d like and I’ll answer as honestly as I can. But I’d suggest you ask those questions to Merlin himself first. The two of you should learn about your pasts from each other.”

“Don’t know that he wants to get to know me. He seems pretty keen to figure out what happened and, I dunno, make everything go back to how it was. Won’t even let me help him with the magic stuff.” Eggsy frowns and looks at his feet before mumbling, “So much for being partners.”

Merlin suddenly feels like he’s been slapped. That wasn’t at all what he had meant to happen. Somewhere between Eggsy suddenly appearing in place of his dog and trying to deal with the fact he now had a familiar, he’d lost sight of the fact that Eggsy was a being with his own thoughts and feelings and ways to help. And Merlin has been a complete arse to him all day.

Harry shifts forward and rests a gentle hand against Eggsy’s shoulder. “Merlin’s being a right git.”

Eggsy looks up and Merlin thinks he wants to protest but Harry just squeezes his shoulder and continues. “He is. But you have to understand, he’s always been very bad at handling sudden changes. Anything he can’t predict or plan for throws him off balance. Give him some time to adjust.”

While Harry talks, Merlin slips into the room. Harry is right, damn him, and Merlin is determined to fix things before they can get any worse.

Eggsy looks up at Harry skeptically, but before he can say anything Merlin clears his throat. Eggsy spins around, face painfully open before he reigns it in and affects an air of nonchalance.

“Hey Merlin. Didn’t expect you anytime soon.”

Merlin sees Harry roll his eyes behind Eggsy’s back. “Yes, hello Merlin. All done in the library?”

Merlin gestures towards the chair in the corner. “Let’s sit.”

Eggsy shrugs and goes to sprawl on the chair. It’s interesting to see him shift and wiggle to get comfortable. They are the same motions that Eggsy makes when nestling into the couch when he thinks Merlin isn’t looking, only now it’s with his human legs curled up and to the side, one arms across his knees and the other on the arm of the chair. It’s endearing, and Merlin has to stop himself from walking over and running his fingers through the lad’s hair.

Harry grabs two stools from around the table and pulls them across the room. Once the two of them are seated, Merlin sighs.

“I didn’t find anything to explain your taking on a human form. I knew it was a long shot but I needed to be sure that I hadn’t missed anything before.” Eggsy nods solemnly. Merlin waits a moment but Eggsy just looks at him, seemingly not interested in offering any suggestions, not that Merlin had expected as much given how he’d treated him all afternoon.

“But I did figure something else out instead. Perhaps I shouldn’t be so… headstrong, and should ask my familiar if he has any suggestions on what we should do.” Eggsy softens at that, leaning forward ever so slightly towards Merlin.

“Eggsy, I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. I let my confusion and surprise override my sense. I’m honored that you chose to be my familiar, and I’d very much like if we could figure things out together.”

A faint flush rises across Eggsy’s face, and Merlin is careful to ignore the part of his brain that immediately whispers how good Eggsy looks when he’s blushing.

“It’s alright. I know it must have been kinda weird having a strange person just appear in the house.”

“Still.” Merlin leans back and looks at Harry. “Either of you have any suggestions on what to do next? My only thought at this point is throw my questions to the community, but you know that I’m not particularly fond of their tendency to gossip. I’d rather we not become a sideshow.”

“You might consult with Addy. She’s always had a keen sense of these things, and is blessedly discrete at that,” Harry says, then looks at his watch. “Although perhaps tomorrow, it’s later than I realized.”

“Another reason I came to find you,” Merlin responds. “Why don’t we go to the kitchen and see what we can scrounge up to eat.” Merlin turns to Eggsy and smiles. “Someone has been teaching me that I work better on a full stomach than an empty one.”

Eggsy returns the smile, and Merlin feels better than he has all day.

“Yes, Merlin, about time. I’m famished.” Eggsy unfolds from the chair and stands up, stretching his arms up above his head. Merlin get’s a glimpse of toned abs and quickly looks away and to Eggsy’s face, tamping down every appreciative thought he has. Eggsy gives him a strange look, but it quickly shifts back to a cocky smirk. “Lead on. This place is huge, and I have no idea where I’m going.”

The three of them wind their way through the house and down to the kitchen. It’s quiet, the elder Harts retired to their rooms and the staff done for the day. Their voices echo slightly in the halls as Merlin asks about the designs Harry had made for Eggsy, and the two of them cheerily banter about what makes _decent_ clothing, and how Eggsy is growing a bit fond of his trainers.

They reach the kitchen and he and Harry start opening cupboards and searching the fridge while Eggsy sits on a stool near the counter. Merlin can feel Eggsy’s gaze on him as he and Harry start chopping vegetables and cracking eggs without a word spoken between them.

“What are ya making?” Eggsy asks, chin propped in his hand and elbow against the countertop. His eyes are big as he watches them work.

“Omelettes,” they respond in unison.

Eggsy quirks an eyebrow and Harry grins at him over his cutting board. “It was one of the first things we learned to cook when we were younger. Since then it has become something of a habit to make them on the evenings we are too busy -- (“Or too sloshed,” Merlin interjects, and Harry throws him a withering look.) -- to make it to dinner on time.”

Eggsy laughs then leans over the counter. “Ain’t never had anything like that before. What’s in it?”

Merlin walks around behind Harry to get to the stove and starts adding ingredients to the heated pan, naming them as he does. “Eggs, peppers, mushrooms, ham, and cheese.”

As Merlin lets things cook, he watches as Eggsy closes his eyes and tilts his head. He takes in a deep breath and Merlin can practically feel the curiosity and excitement rolling off of him.

They finish cooking in silence, the only sounds the sizzling of the food and the clatter of dishes as Harry gets plates and forks. Eggsy looks on eagerly, and Merlin makes sure to serve him first when everything is done.

The first bite Eggsy takes has him moaning loudly, and Merlin makes sure to keep his eyes on his own plate, even as he feels Harry stare at the flush creeping down his neck.

“This is fucking delicious. Thank you,” Eggsy says after he’s wolfed down half of his plate.

“Of course, Eggsy,” Merlin says. “I guess now you’ll be even more insistent about my eating regular meals.”

“If they all taste like this, then yeah. Only now you better be making enough for two.” Eggsy finishes the last few bites on his plate before pushing it away.

“So I have an idea of someone we might talk to about my transformation.”

Merlin focuses on Eggsy immediately, food forgotten. “Who?”

“I have family -- well, as close as -- that know more about the calling than me. It’s worth seeing if they understand what’s going on.”

Merlin has questions he wants to ask, about Eggsy’s family and what they’re like, but manages only the most important. “When do we find them?”

Eggsy is suddenly sheepish, looking away and fiddling with his fork. “Not we, me. I trust you, Merlin, and she will too, but somethings are meant only for familiars. You’re still a human even if you’re mine.”

Merlin frowns, but doesn’t have a good argument against Eggsy’s logic. Eggsy stands up from the counter. “I’ll go now. It ain’t far and if I’m lucky I can be back in a couple of hours with good news before we head home.”

Harry stands up with him. “Is there anything you need? I can find a torch if you like, it’s quite dark out now.”

Eggsy shakes his head. “Nah, fairly certain my senses are as good as they were when I was a dog. Should be able to see no problem. But do you have any blueberries?”

Harry gives him a quizzical look, then bends over to dig around in the fridge. He stands up with a small carton and hands it over. “Still hungry?”

“Nah, but they’re Daisy’s favourite,” Eggsy says with a smile. “First time I’m able to bring some with me.”

“Daisy?” Merlin asks.

“My sister. She’s the little bird that rides on my head sometimes. She also seems to adore Harry.”

Harry’s eyes widen. “The wren? She’s a familiar?”

“Yep. If you had magic, I’d bet she was yours. But she’s fond of you all the same.” Eggsy walks to the door leading from the kitchen and out to the yard. “Thanks for taking care of her all these years. Be back soon.” And like that he’s out the door.

Merlin looks at Harry, an expression of astonishment on his face mirroring the one on Harry’s.

“A drink?” Harry asks.

Merlin nods and sags in his seat. “Aye. I didn’t get one earlier, and I think it’s well overdue.”

It is only when he has to lean down in order to place his offering of blueberries near the cavity that marks the opening of Daisy’s nest that Eggsy realises why the forest looked off somehow. It isn’t so much that the forest has changed, but rather that he is looking at it from a different vantage point now that he’s got a human body. There are things he could have never seen from his 25 inches above the ground and things that completely escape his notice now that he is shy of 6 feet.

It is definitely something that will take some getting used to, but at the same time, they only come by the estate about once month. It’s not like the weirdness will affect him all that much.

He’s still debating whether or not he should wake the little wren or let her discover his surprise the next morning when Michelle starts fluttering around his head.

_Eggsy, what happened to you?_

It never crossed his mind that she might not recognize him in this form until she calls him out by name. Though, now that she clearly knows who he is, he can’t say it’s a shock. Their physical appearance is only a small part of who they are after all and even if he can now stand on two feet and extend a hand for her to perch on, his magic is still the same.

Well, he suspects it might have changed a bit from his bond with Merlin and all the time he’s spent with him, but not in any significant way. He believes that maybe one day their magic is going to be so intertwined as to make them indiscernible from each other, but they are far from that point yet.

Now that he’s out of the house and the friendly atmosphere of the kitchen, he finds that it still stings somewhat that Merlin hadn’t even suspected his true nature, that he had thought him a mere domestic animal. Not that there’s anything wrong about them, but the man has come to mean so much to him already, that he cannot conceive not being held in similar regards in return.

 _What did he do?_ If she could, he has no doubt she would be breathing fire and he has no trouble imagining little puffs of smoke escaping her beak. It would even be amusing, if she wasn’t also unjustly angry at Merlin.

“Nothing, he did nothing.” She doesn’t seem convinced and his poor attempt at a smile doesn’t help as much as he would have liked. “I swear, he’s done nothing.”

 _Then how come you’re… you’re…_ At her own loss for words, she flaps her wings with annoyance, as if it would suffice to encompass all that she means to say.

“Human? Beats me. I thought you’d know.” At his admission, she seems even more distraught and he gently brushes the knuckles of his other hand against her back. “It’s okay, it was a long shot anyway.”

He had known even before he stepped outside the house that this would probably be a dead end, but that doesn’t stop the disappointment from hitting him hard. It wouldn’t be so bad, except he knows precisely why he feels this way and the reason behind it makes him cringe.

He cannot help but think it would have been nice to bring an explanation to Merlin, to be the one to answer all that he doesn’t understand.

But the truth is, he isn’t so sure about it now. Merlin has apologized and has made an effort of course, and Eggsy is more than willing to meet him halfway, but he’s afraid that what was slowly but surely building between them is now strained beyond repair. He can only hope he’s wrong.

 _Actually…_ Michelle trails off and she seems so hesitant that for the longest time Eggsy thinks she’ll leave it there. Something in his expression must convince her however, because her eyes start gleaming with determination before she suddenly takes flight. She doesn’t go far, only perching on the nearest tree branch, then she turns to him, expectantly. _Aren’t you coming?_

Were he truly human, he might feel rather foolish, standing in the middle of the woods, floundering at a bird, but since he’s not, he couldn’t care less.

The thing is, it’s not that he doesn’t trust Michelle, it’s just that he doesn’t want to be away from Merlin for too long, no matter how awkward things are between them at the moment.

_I know someone who might have an answer._

He can’t think of any other familiar on the estate who might have more knowledge than Michelle, but at the same time, it’s not like he’s ever gone out of his way to talk to any of them besides her and Daisy. He feels a niggling doubt when he takes a step forward, because he told Merlin he wouldn’t be long, but as soon as he figures out the root of his guilt, he does his best to squash it vindictively. Merlin had had very little consideration for him earlier this afternoon. It would serve him right to stew in his own juice for a little while.

_Alright then, lead the way._

She flies between the trees gracefully while he has a bit more difficulty following her on the ground. Where she is leading him to, there are no clear paths for him to travel by.

It’s the strangest thing, but after a few minutes, he would swear he has never seen this area of the forest before. Right before now, he had been pretty confident that he knew all that there was to know about it. He might have kept to himself during his stay, but he would have been a fool not to explore and become familiar with his new surroundings.

But that he’s never before set eyes on the old yews covered in moss is undeniable. In some ways, it reminds him of the heart of the first forest he’s lived in with Lee, except this one is _healthy_. The strong currents of magic here are equally as old as they had been over there, but rather than feeling stifling, it feels _comforting_ of all things. If he hadn’t been living with Merlin for the past weeks, he might even have been tempted to say it felt like home, but nothing will ever truly feel like that anymore if he isn’t in the man’s presence.

It’s only once he’s standing in the middle of a grove formed by the ancient trees that he realises Michelle must have paused on a branch some time ago and he’s been walking without a physical guide for a while now. However, there is no doubt in his mind that he’s come to the right destination, even before he notices the large shadow lounging on a large branch just above eye level.

He involuntarily takes a few steps back when the lynx jumps to the ground, stretching lazily before laying down, their front paws extended in front of him. His reaction wasn’t born out of fear though, rather from respect at being in the presence of such an old soul.

Unlike the other ancient souls he’d met in his youth, the lynx in front of him doesn’t make his blood grow cold in his veins in quiet horror. There’s nothing chilly in being in their presence, merely a sense of profound sadness. The lynx has stopped _waiting_ , but unlike the others, they haven’t quite _forgotten_. Eggsy’s heart aches to see such resignation in the proud animal, even if he has no idea what might have caused it.

The lynx cocks their head in invitation after a moment and Eggsy comes closer without hesitation.

Since realising he had taken human form, he‘d wondered if he would be able to return to his true form ever again, but the thought had taken a backseat to his worries about Merlin and what would happen to their bond if the man was to never accept his new reality.

The change back, it turns out, demands no more conscious thought than turning into a human had -- the process so easy and quick that by the time he’s sitting in front of the ancient soul, he’s a foxhound again.

 _Hello cub,_ the lynx greets him in a deep voice that seems to come from the edge of times. _What are you doing here,_ the words are slow in coming, as if the lynx isn’t used to them anymore, _your bond is true, you have no use of a sanctuary._

It would sound like a reproach, if not for the genuine curiosity glinting in the lynx’ eyes, making them look sharper than a minute before, as if they had been just woken from a long dream.

_Is it? True, I mean._

They nod, a big paw extending towards him to bring his attention on the bed of flowers underneath him that hadn’t been there before.

_But that’s just the magic of this place…_

The currents of magic that run through the estate feel even stronger among the yews, as if anchored by the very roots of the trees.

As it is, there is very little wonder that it would react to his presence in such a way.

The lynx mustn't agree, because they sigh deeply, giving Eggsy the distinct impression that he is being judged a fool. Soon, they are back on their feet, stretching languidly, before crossing the distance between them both. They lie down again, this time curled around Eggsy, their paw gently pressing against his.

 _No,_ this _is the magic here._

They rub their cheek against his, directing his gaze once more, without any resistance from Eggsy.

The touches of the ancient soul appear to have woken up something in Eggsy, allowing him not only to sense the magic all around them, but to _see_ it, as real to him as the leaves on the trees. The currents are a myriad of different colors, waves of energy weaving around and through everything he sets his eyes on, urging, coaxing, protecting… Infusing life everywhere in an endless dance.

When he looks back down, the flowerbed under his belly is going through much the same, but even to his untrained eyes, he can spot the slight difference. The flowers are caused by magic on a much smaller scale, a magic that is part of the forest simply because Eggsy is currently in it. Because _Merlin_ isn’t too far away.

It’s the effect their combined magic has on the world and he understands now what the lynx meant by their bond being true. It cannot be anything but true to be giving life to blooming flowers wherever he lays a paw.

He relaxes against the lynx, lulled into a sense of security he’s only felt with Merlin before by the low purring he can feel more than hear rumbling against his back.

 _Why are you here cub?_ The lynx breaks the peace with the same question again after some time.

 _I wanted to know why I could turn into a human._ There is no reaction at his words and at first Eggsy thinks the lynx has simply not heard him or doesn’t understand what he means, but when he turns towards them, it’s only to see them with a patient expression, as if waiting for him to continue. As if there is nothing wrong in Eggsy being able to take on a human form. _So it’s normal? I’m not the only one who can do this?_

_Normal yes. He wanted a partner and you wanted to be one in all the ways that mattered. Are there others like you now? I can no longer say..._

Their eyes get lost in the distance, wistfully, and for the first time in his life, Eggsy wonders what reasons made any of the ancient souls tie themselves to the lands, letting the natural magical currents sustain them instead of an equal bond. Did they never hear a calling or have they simply refused it, ignored it when the time came?

He shudders at the thought of shunning Merlin in such a way, even if he knows that, had it come a few decades earlier, he would have dug teeth and nails in the ground not to answer his calling. And he would have been stubborn enough to stay in the forest to the end of his days.

He didn’t get the answers he wanted, but he says no more for the rest of his stay, watching the magic of the estate dance while the lynx’ eyes are fixed on the strings of magic that binds him to Merlin.

Merlin sits back and stretches his legs towards the fire. The cool fall air feels good on his face, and he wonders if Eggsy notices a difference now that he has skin instead of fur.

“This was a good idea,” Merlin says, taking another sip of his beer and watching the fire reflect off of the bottle.

“Of course it was,” Harry replies before taking a drink from his own beer. “It’s a beautiful night to use the fire pit. Besides, Eggsy will have an easier time finding us here. I don’t need him getting lost in the house trying to find us in the study.”

They fall quiet again. Merlin has always appreciated Harry’s ability to know when he wants silence, and he lets his mind wander.

He hopes that Eggsy is managing alright. It’s been longer than Eggsy said he’d be gone, but Merlin isn’t too worried yet. If Eggsy is safe anywhere, it’s on the estate. But it is getting late. It’s been a long day, and Merlin is ready to go home and fall into his bed with how tired he is.

“Shit.” Merlin sits up in his chair and leans towards Harry. “I can’t have the lad sleeping on the couch from now on. He’s going to need a space of his own.”

Merlin stands up and starts pacing around the fire. “Christ, I don’t know how to live with someone, let alone share my space.” Harry draws a breath, but Merlin cuts him off before he can start. “No, you don’t count. And no, a dog doesn’t count either.”

An idea hits him, and Merlin stops his pacing in front of Harry. “Can I give him your room?”

Harry lets out one of his long suffering sighs that always make Merlin want to shake him. “Let’s start with the fact that the guest room is only _my room_ because no one else ever uses it. It’s your house, Merlin, of course he can have it.”

Harry finishes is beer and sets the bottle down beside his chair. “Next, I have no idea what you’re suddenly on about. You’ve been living with Eggsy for months now, even if you thought he was just an ordinary dog. I’m certain he knows more about how you live than I do at this point. Christ, he’s probably seen you naked.”

Merlin’s stomach drops and his eyes go wide. “Fuck, he’s seen me in the bath.” How could he have possibly forgotten that.

He’s ready to wallow in the horror of it when he hears Harry start to laugh. Merlin looks over to see Harry with his hand in front of his mouth, trying to hide the smile splitting his face. A second later Harry is bent nearly in half in his chair.

It’s infectious and Merlin sits hard on the ground as his laughter joins Harry’s. The whole situation is absurd, and Merlin knows Harry’s right. He had wanted a familiar, and he got one. An amazing, smart, caring familiar regardless of his form. The rest of his discomfort is on Merlin, and it’s on him to get over it, even if he’d rather have kept his dignity intact.

They are still chuckling to themselves when Eggsy emerges from the shadows at the edge of the yard. Merlin watches as he trots across the grass towards their fire. He’s once again a foxhound, and Merlin hesitates before he reaches out his hand to him. He’s not sure if Eggsy will still allow him to pet him, especially after he admitted that he’d thought he was only a normal dog, but Eggsy comes right up to him and lets him bury both his hands in the fur along his neck.

It’s like they both need to reconnect. Merlin smoothes his hands over Eggsy’s back and Eggsy gently bumps his nose against Merlin’s chest. But after only a few moments of gentle touches Eggsy steps back and sits on his hind legs.

It’s a strange thing to watch as Eggsy becomes human. Between the blinks of an eye Merlin can see both of Eggsy’s forms sitting in the same spot, simultaneously solid and as intangible as fog. And surrounding both of them, his magic. He thinks it looks like a swirling of blue -- the same color as Eggsy’s eyes -- and a moment later green with hints of gold -- the same shade as his own -- but he’s not sure. It’s like looking at something out of the corner of his eye, but if he tries to focus on it, it disappears. Then the sight is gone and Eggsy is human again, sitting with his knees up and leaning back on his hands behind him.

“Hey, sorry I was gone so long,” Eggsy says. His voice is quiet and his eyes are focused on the sky. Merlin can’t help but think he looks as though he’s still someplace very far away.

Behind him, Merlin hears Harry pick up the empty bottles and slip back into the house.

“That’s alright,” Merlin says. He wants to ask if Eggsy was successful, but after his single minded focus earlier he doesn’t think it’s a good idea to push. Instead he leans back to look up at the stars, letting the silence stretch out between them.

“I’ve missed looking at the stars,” Merlin murmurs eventually. “There’s too much light pollution at the house to see any in the back garden. I used to go out and look at the stars with my parents when I was very little. We lived out in the country and had a big back yard. I remember my da trying to teach me the constellations, but I was never very good at finding or remembering them.” He’s not sure what prompts him to start talking about his parents, but when he looks over at Eggsy and sees he’s focused on him instead of the sky, he knows it was the right choice.

“Later when I came to live here, Harry and I would come out in the summer to look at them. By then I was older and I had a telescope, so it was much easier to learn. But it took me several more years to realize that it wasn’t the knowledge of the stars I enjoyed. It was the idea of them.” Merlin lays back and looks up at the sky. “They remind me of the way magic feels, vast and beautiful. That I’m just a small part of something so large.”

Merlin takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, turning his head to look at Eggsy again. He wants to reach out and take Eggsy’s hand, but he doesn’t. Instead he clasps his own together on his stomach, hopeful that maybe he can share the stars with someone again, with Eggsy.

Eggsy stares back at him, face pensive before he sits up straight and starts talking.

“Michelle didn’t have any answers, but she brought me to see someone who did. An ancient soul. I had that same feeling when I was with them.”

Eggsy pauses, and gives Merlin a curious look. Merlin doesn’t say anything, even though he wants to, and waits for Eggsy to continue.

“Apparently it’s normal for a familiar to gain a human form. It allows us to become partners, equals.”

Merlin sits up then. He hadn’t thought of that, the power imbalance that was inevitable between man and beast. It made sense that they could accomplish so much more with Eggsy as a human.

“Did they say anything else?”

Eggsy shakes his head. “I think it had been a long time since anyone had visited them. They didn’t seem very interested in chatting.”

It’s not much, but it’s something, and it makes Merlin realize even more how much he’s made a mess of things.

“Thank you, Eggsy.” With one last look up at the stars, Merlin pushes himself off the ground. “It’s very late. What do you say we head home?”

This time he does hold out his hand, to help Eggsy up from his place on the ground. He watches for a moment as Eggsy’s eyes sparkle in the firelight and then smiles when Eggsy reaches out and takes it.

It’s very early morning when they get back home and Eggsy wants nothing more than to curl up in bed and not move for a week. He would have slept in the car, but it seemed unfair to let Merlin drive all the way without real company.

Not that they’ve said very much during the ride, but it’s the principle of the thing.

He nearly bumps into Merlin’s back when they make it upstairs, the man having stopped suddenly in the middle of the hallway without any warnings. Eggsy is about to start grumbling at him to be more careful, even if in this particular case he’s partly to blame too, but Merlin is already turned towards him, smiling sheepishly.

“I just realised I didn’t tell you, but I don’t think it’s fair to ask you to sleep on the couch given…” He trails off, obviously unsure what to call Eggsy’s newfound ability to change into human form, but Eggsy just nods to indicate he understands. “And I won’t. The guest room will be yours from now on.”

“What? But the room’s Harry’s, no?” That’s not why he’s protesting, not really, but he doesn’t know how to say he expected to sleep with Merlin from now on.

“Well, yes and no. But, Harry doesn’t mind. And I want you to have some place of your own. It’s your home too now… Not that it wasn’t before… just… You need a room.”

He gets what Merlin is trying to say, but even if upset is a bit too strong a word to describe what Eggsy is feeling to be told that they won’t be sharing the same bed, he’s definitely disappointed. He’s human now, it’s not like he’s got any fur to shed.

He understands that Merlin must see his bedroom as a territory of sort, but they’re supposed to be _partners_ , surely he should be welcomed there like family.

He knows he’s being ridiculous, that it’s not even been a day, and he shouldn’t expect Merlin to treat him like Eggsy would treat Daisy and Michelle. But after their moment under the stars, Eggsy had thought they had finally come to an understanding.

Instead, it feels like Merlin still doesn’t entirely trust him.

It’s not true though, because he hasn’t start blocking him off again and he remembers Harry telling him that Merlin doesn’t like change, dislikes not being in control of a situation.

Eggsy has had months to get used to their bond, a bond Merlin hadn’t been aware of. Sure, he doesn’t behave like Eggsy would prefer him to, but at least he hasn’t walled himself off like he had done earlier in the day.

If he takes the time to think about it, it does feel like progress in the right direction. He really needs to snap out of his resentment and let Merlin have the time to accept and adapt to their new situation. It’s not by behaving like a  petulant child that he’ll endear himself to Merlin.

If anything, they both need a good night, or well, day really, of sleep. It’s not by standing in the hallway, arguing about whether or not Eggsy has use of a private space in the house that they’ll achieve it.

“Alright… Anyway, I’m knackered, I’ll take that bed now, if you insist on me having it.” Merlin’s surprise when he doesn’t continue to protest is well worth letting the argument go before it can even start. “Sleep well, Merlin.”

Merlin echoes him distractedly and he is still staring when Eggsy closes the door of what he supposes is now his bedroom.

He’s seen it before of course, so there’s nothing for him to fawn over, except for the fact that all of this is apparently now _his_. Or almost.

There are a few things of Harry’s here -- some clothes, a sketchbook, threads and needles, things that Eggsy has no need for. Still, he’s glad for the traces of the other man’s presence in the otherwise bare room. Merlin has put up a bookshelf here too of course, but it holds books he has very little use for and it doesn’t help with the impersonal impression Eggsy gets from the room in general.

He’s even more grateful for Harry’s smell lingering in the room. It’s very faint, barely noticeable even to his senses under Merlin’s strong smell, but it’s definitely there.

After avoiding another near argument, it’s soothing and comforting, reminding him that no matter what happens next, he’s at least made an ally today. Maybe even a friend. Harry had seemed concerned about him too, not just Merlin after all. And if he’s being honest, he had fun with him today when he wasn’t worrying about Merlin.

It’s wondering what kind of clothes Harry will present him with the next time he sees him that he falls asleep, still entirely dressed except for his winged shoes and not even having bothered to get under the blankets.


	6. Chapter 6

The sun peeks through the heavy curtains, the strip of light cutting across the foot of his bed. Merlin stares up at the ceiling, simultaneously not wanting to get out of bed because he’s so tired, and wanting to fling himself from it and away from the feeling of unease that looms over him.

The night had been riddled with vaguely ominous dreams that had faded away every time he opened his eyes. It’s been a long time since Merlin has had such a restless night, and he wants nothing more than an hour of dreamless sleep.

Instead he watches the sun play over his bed for several more minutes before he sighs and looks at the clock. It’s well past breakfast, nearing on lunch, and the thought of food has Merlin’s stomach rumbling.

 _Brunch_ , Merlin thinks. Maybe some beans and toast. There might be some orange juice in the fridge and he’s fairly sure there are some hard boiled eggs in there somewhere. He hasn’t heard anything from the guest room, and he guesses that Eggsy must still be sleeping. If he gets up now he should have time to cook, maybe make some scotch eggs for Eggsy to try, before the lad gets out of bed.

Some of the tension that has been present all morning melts away at the thought of providing a meal for Eggsy. He thinks of the night before and how a simple omelette had for a moment made everything better. _Yes, Brunch_.

Eggsy had planned on staying in bed all day and ignoring his growling stomach in favor of more sleep, but he had given up when a glorious smell had reached him even through the door. That and the memory of yesterday’s omelette finally convinced him to get up and go downstairs.

Given the smell, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to find Merlin standing behind the stove, but he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t feel a little thrill at seeing him cooking. Merlin rarely makes the effort for anything other than toast or sandwiches, and while he’s sure there’s nothing wrong with either, he cannot wait to see, or rather eat, what he’s preparing. If it tastes half as good as an omelette, he’s in for a treat.

He’s pretty sure he hasn’t made a sound to announce his presence, but after a few seconds, Merlin turns to him, a little smile already curling his lips and his eyes soft, as if he knew already Eggsy would be standing behind him. And maybe he really did, if he hasn’t blocked off the bond again.

“Ah Eggsy, I was about to get you.”

“Can I help you?”

“No, there’s no need, just take a seat.”

Eggsy bristles a bit when his help is refused, but it doesn’t take him long to realise Merlin only meant that he was just about finished as he puts a plate in front of him.

If Merlin noticed, he doesn’t mention it, simply urging him to dig in.

“Mine will be done in no time.”

He tries to wait, he really does, but the orange juice does nothing to sate his hunger and so, Merlin is still at the oven when he takes his first bite.

Much like yesterday, he cannot help but moan around his first mouthful, his eyes closing in bliss, completely missing how Merlin turns to stare at him, his cheeks flushed.

“Bruv, I really don’t get how you can _forget_ to _eat_. I’d always be eating if it were my choice.” As if to illustrate his point, he stuffs another bite in his mouth, so big he can feel his cheeks bulging out like a squirrel.

Merlin snorts in amusement, but when Eggsy looks up from his plate to glare in mock offense, the other is busy making his own plate.

“Those are called scotch eggs,” Merlin says over his shoulder. “We don’t usually make them as a breakfast food, but I didn’t think you’d mind.” Eggsy just shakes his head and takes another bite.

For a moment, he thinks Merlin will sit across from him, but instead, he takes the seat beside him. Even more than the delicious food, it’s how their elbows keep brushing together as they eat in comfortable silence that keeps him smiling all through their breakfast.

When Merlin steps out into the garden, he can’t help but smile softly at the sight. He had spent many hours over the spring and summer planting and weeding, coaxing and encouraging the plants with magic, the pup sniffing at the flowers or laying by his side. Now that Merlin knows it was really Eggsy beside him, he understands how even in the slanted fall sun the spring flowers are still blooming.

Behind him, Merlin hears Eggsy puttering around the kitchen, cleaning up the remnants of brunch. Somehow it’s already a familiar sound, comforting, and Merlin’s smile grows wider. Knowing that Eggsy will join him outside once he’s finished, Merlin starts their daily ritual without him.

Merlin’s already collected the plants he’ll need for his spellwork later and weeded the flowerbeds by the time Eggsy steps out to join him. He sits back on his heels and watches as Eggsy comes over to kneel next to him.

It’s nice, seeing Eggsy amongst the plants like this. It was always comfortable with the pup, but this is better. The sun makes his skin glow and Merlin can almost feel the way the plants are drawn to him. He belongs here.

So it feels right to Merlin to lean over to the clump of flowers growing at his side and clip one of the blooms. Carefully he turns to Eggsy and slips the daffodil behind his ear.

Eggsy’s eyes go a bit wide, and he gingerly lifts his hand to touch the edges of the petals. For a moment Merlin thinks that Eggsy might take it off, but he’s proven wrong when Eggsy gets the biggest grin and simply whispers _thank you_.

Merlin just nods and grins in return before turning back to the trellis and continues coaxing the vines to take hold of it.

Much like he did earlier in the day, Eggsy takes care of the cleaning up after their dinner.

He never thought he would enjoy this so much, but he can already see them falling easily into a new routine of shared meals and divided up chores. He hopes Merlin will be willing to show him how to cook soon, so that the man will be able to focus on his work while Eggsy takes care of him.

Maybe he should learn to read too, now that he’s thinking of what could be helpful. It can’t be that hard if the humans teach it to their young ones and Eggsy isn’t so old yet that he can’t learn a new trick. And really, now that he’s got the hands to hold them, it would be a shame if he couldn’t read all the books that are at his disposition in the house.

The more he thinks of it, the more he’s convinced he’s got the right idea. He’ll just have to mention it to Merlin, but that’s for another day.

Right this moment, he’s still somewhat exhausted by all the stress of yesterday and the very few hours he got to sleep. They hadn’t even been all that restful, because he had spent a lot of that time tossing and turning in his new bed.

He isn’t sure if it was all the emotional turmoil or if it had been because of the constricting clothes he had been wearing, but he’s determined to sleep well tonight.

He’d try going naked, but he’s afraid that even with the blankets, he’ll find that to be too cold for him. He’s used to having a coat of fur close to his skin and it’s not the hair on his human form that will keep him warm.

He could always go back to his true form, but he finds himself reluctant to do so, not when he still needs to get used to this body. Not to mention that being in human form is a way for him to better understand Merlin and to be closer to him. With their bond still on the mend, he’s hesitant to give it up, even for the span of a night.

So night clothes it is.

Since he’s still unsure how he manifested the clothes he’s currently wearing in the first place, or if he can even change their appearance, he decides he’ll simply have to borrow something of Merlin’s.

He’s about to ask him, but when he sees him at his lab table, meticulously grinding seeds he just rolls his eyes fondly. He’d have better luck talking at a wall and getting an answer than getting one from Merlin right now. He’ll just have to go look in his drawers by himself then.

Quietly, as to not disturb Merlin’s concentration, he picks up the vase he’s unearthed from one of the cupboards for his daffodil and makes his way upstairs. He hopes it won’t be too hard to find something comfortable to sleep in just so he can crash faster into bed.

The first thing Merlin sees when he switches on the bedside lamp is the corner of fabric sticking out from the drawer of the end table. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Merlin opens the drawer and pulls out the book.

After the night of the summoning spell, Merlin had taken The Black Pullet and tucked it away in the drawer, still wrapped up in its scrap of fabric. He hadn’t been able to return it to its spot amongst the other books, something in his gut telling him that the offering couldn’t be taken back, even if he hadn’t gotten his familiar.

Merlin flips back the fabric and runs his hand over the cover. He understands now why that was. The spell _had_ worked, and the book was no longer his to keep, he was only holding onto it until the time was right to present it.

Suddenly things click and seem to fall into place. The need to makes eggs for Eggsy at brunch, the instinct to tuck the daffodil in his hair, the pull to take out this book when he hasn’t looked at it since that night -- he’s making sure that his familiar, that Eggsy, accepts the offerings he’s made to him.

Wrapping the book back up, Merlin quickly walks out of his room and down the hall to Eggsy’s door. He knocks immediately and hears quiet shuffling from the other side before Eggsy opens the door.

“Hey Merlin, whatcha need?”

Eggsy’s already in sleep clothes - a well worn band tshirt and low slung flannel pants that are long enough to bunch around his bare feet. For a moment, Merlin doesn’t answer, too distracted by the sight of Eggsy wearing his clothes and wondering when Eggsy snuck into his room to find them.

But then Eggsy tilts his head and quirks his eyebrow, and Merlin clears his throat.

“I’d like to show you something. May I?” He gestures inside.

“‘Course. Come on in.”

Eggsy steps back and Merlin walks in. He hovers for a moment just inside the door, but Eggsy just climbs onto the bed and sits back against the wall. He pats the mattress beside him, and with no other furniture in the room, Merlin sits down on the bed and scoots over next to Eggsy.

He sets the book on his lap and glances over. Eggsy smiles shyly at Merlin and then looks curiously at the book, still wrapped in its cloth. Merlin looks down too, and suddenly he isn’t sure how to start. How does he convey what this book means to him and what it means for him to give it to Eggsy. He knows this is what he’s supposed to do, but not how to do it.

A warm hand settles on his arm, and Merlin looks up into Eggsy’s eyes.

“Whatever you want to say, you can say it. I’m here now and I’m not leaving you without putting up a fight.” A quiet horror fills him at the thought and it bothers him greatly that Eggsy would think he wants to get rid of him. “Hey, no, I didn’t mean it that way! I just meant you shouldn’t keep things from me. Especially not when I can feel how important they are to you… to us.”

Eggsy’s hand slips until it rests on the back of his, his eyes determined and warm with affection and Merlin can only turn his hand so that their fingers are loosely linked together.

“Okay,” Merlin exhales. “I need to start by explaining the night I performed the summoning spell to call you. Part of the ritual was to lay out offerings for the familiar. Objects that would encourage one to stay with the wizard calling them. I offered three things that night. The first was a small plate of hard boiled eggs.”

He doesn’t think that Eggsy realizes it when he licks his lips at the mention of eggs. “Why eggs?” Eggsy asks.

Merlin can’t help but chuckle. “Honestly, it was the only thing I had in the fridge. I’d gotten wrapped up in the lab and forgot to get groceries.”

“Good thing I like eggs then,” Eggsy laughs. “What else?”

“A single daffodil. For our new beginning.”

Eggsy turns his head towards the desk, and Merlin follows the movement. There, sitting in a little vase, is the daffodil that Merlin had picked for him in the garden. Eggsy squeezes his hand, and turns back with his eyes a little wider.

“Brunch… and the garden. You were offering them to me again?”

“Aye. Not consciously, they just felt like the right things to do. I didn’t realize the significance until I felt compelled to take this out.” Merlin rests his free hand on the top of the book.

“And what’s that?”

“The third offering, and perhaps the most important.” As he talks, Merlin gently unwraps the book and turns it for Eggsy to see.

“A book?” Eggsy asks. He takes his hand from Merlin’s and lays it instead on the cover. “But I- I don’t know how to read… yet.”

“It’s not the content of the book, but what it represents for me. The Black Pullet -- that’s the title of the book -- it’s… many things. My friendship with Harry for one. Ask him someday for the story behind him getting me this book. But also, the catalyst of my magical abilities. The day I got this was the day I performed my first spell, albeit unconsciously. Open it.”

Gently, Eggsy opens the cover. The light catches on the silver bookmark, and Eggsy reaches out to run his finger down it’s length, feather light.

“The symbol at the top is the Grey family crest. It was the only thing worth keeping from the few items that survived the fire.” For a moment Merlin can’t breathe. He feels heat on his face and hears the crackle of the flames and his heart aches for his family. “I was six when my… when I lost my parents. I spent five months in foster care before the lawyer found the Harts and they brought me to the estate.”

Merlin drops his gaze and watches from the corner of his eye as Eggsy lifts the book from his lap and places it in his own.

“These represent my family, the people that I care about most in the world. I offered them because I want you to have them. I want you to be a part of that family, and I’d trust no one else with the symbol of that trust.”

Eggsy’s hand is suddenly on his own and Merlin looks up only to get caught in Eggsy’s expression. His face hides nothing, and Merlin can easily tell how he’s upset over Merlin’s parents, but honored by the significance of this final offering. He’s hit with a wave of sadness and disbelief, but also of overwhelming comfort.

He takes their clasped hands and wraps them with his free one, gripping tight. He closes his eyes and holds on to the comfort Eggsy provides.

For a long time, Eggsy doesn’t quite know what to say and he just keeps on holding Merlin’s hands. He’s not even sure he should break their silence, but somehow, it doesn’t seem right for Merlin to have opened up to him about something so personal and get nothing in return.

Their relationship is one of equals, of give-and-take, at least it is in Eggsy’s eyes. He might be imagining it, but he’d swear he feels a pull on his end of the bond, one reminiscent of the calling, and that is what makes him talk in the end.

If Merlin has been redoing the ritual, albeit unconsciously, then Eggsy needs to complete it, like he did all those months ago when he broke the circle at the backyard’s doorstep by letting the magic settle around him.

But this time, instead of magic binding them together, it will be confidences. It will be words.

“We were on our way to the estate when my father was caught in a trap and killed by the humans who had put the thing there.” He hears Merlin’s shocked gasp, but cannot bear looking at him. He’s never told anyone about it, except for Michelle, but she had already guessed much of it before he had felt strong enough to say the words. “Well I say ‘father’, but at first he was only another familiar who had taken me in. But we stuck together even after I got my bearings in the old forest and we decided to leave for the estate together a few years later.”

His biggest regret would probably be to not have convinced Lee earlier to go in search of the estate. He might have been angry at world when he got there, but Eggsy is willing to admit now that it turned out to be exactly the kind of sanctuary for their kind it was rumored to be.

“Why did you leave?”

“Because the forest was changing and no one was there to protect it. Well there were some ancient souls, but before I met the one at the estate, I always thought there was something… twisted about them.”

He still shudders at their memories, while thinking of the lynx only fills him with bittersweet calmness.

At his shivering, Merlin tugs him a little closer and Eggsy gladly sinks against his warmth.

“What are they? The ancient souls.”

The question makes him realise suddenly that there are many things that Merlin won’t know about the familiar world. That there are things that are obvious to him that aren’t so for Merlin, much like there are things from the human world that don’t make much sense to him.

He was thinking of a give-and-take earlier and he had been right. Magic and knowledge will be the basis they need to strengthen the bond of theirs.

“I don’t know much about them either, besides that they are familiars who never bonded. To a human at least. They’re anchored to the magic of the lands instead. Or…” He trails off, unsure how to say what thought just crossed his mind without sounding ridiculous.

But Merlin is genuinely curious and he prompts him gently. “Or?”

“Or maybe the magic is anchored to them?” He cannot be sure since he’s never been to any sanctuary other than the old forest and the Hart estate, but he’d bet that in all such places, at least one ancient soul lingers.

“That… That’s certainly one way to look at it.” From anyone else, it would sound condescending, but Merlin only seems intrigued by Eggsy’s hypothesis. It’s kind of cute how his brows furrow in concentration, as if he’ll pluck the right answer out of thin air. He can feel a bit of restlessness running along the bond that he’s sure means Merlin itches to go look into his books. But he doesn’t move, stays sitting right where he is at his side. “So you arrived alone at the estate?”

“Hmmhmm. Turned out, we weren’t that far actually… a day or two -- I’m not entirely sure. At that point I was just… running.”

_Go Eggsy. Run._

His grip tightens involuntarily on Merlin’s hands at the memory that still haunts his nightmares.

“If you had made the call around that time, I-” He gulps with difficulty, incapable of continuing. It’s not that he’s ashamed of how he felt, how he still feels about most humans, but he wonders how Merlin will react to his confession. “I was just so _angry_ and… And _afraid_ too I think… I wouldn’t have come.”

He thinks Merlin will push him away, but he only makes a comforting sound and slides even closer to him on the bed. For a moment, Eggsy is distracted by the thought that if they continue this way, they’ll end up in each other’s lap.

“But I didn’t call you then and when I did, you came.”

The words feels like absolution and a guilt Eggsy hadn’t been aware he had been carrying around until now lifts from his heart.

Neither of them break the silence after that, even if there is still plenty more to say. Nothing feels quite as important as just _being_ together for the moment and that’s exactly what they do, leaving all the rest for later.

This is just the start of their life together after all. They’ll have plenty of time.

He’s half asleep when he hears it, the screech of the smoke detector. His eyes fly open and he shoots up from where he’s laying. Strangely, his feet are hanging off the end of the bed, and everything feels smaller than it should. But despite the change in perspective, he knows this is still his room.

His books on the shelves, his toys in their cubbies, his stars on the ceiling.

The alarm is still screeching, but through the noise Merlin hears something else. A voice.

_Cinead?! Where are ye? Can ye hear me, wee ain?_

As Merlin gets up off the bed he watches as thick, black smoke starts pouring in under the door. Unnaturally quick the room is completely filled with it. Merlin’s eyes and lungs burn and he can’t see anything.

With his arms outstretched in front of his face, Merlin slowly moves towards the door. As he gets closer to where the door should be, he feels something warm and sticky under his feet, soaking into his socks. There is a heat that starts and keeps getting worse, until he feels his hair start to singe and melt.

The wail of the smoke detector begins to morph the further he walks, changing into different voices, louder, more desperate than before, all vaguely familiar.

_…it burns...Cinead...can’t breathe...alone...help...where are you..._

He starts running, blindly, panic rising in his chest. The liquid rises higher and seeps into the bottom of his pajamas. He feels his skin start to blister and no matter what direction Merlin runs there is nothing but smoke.

The voices rise to a cacophony and Merlin stops to press his hands to his ears, tears streaming down his face. What should he do...why doesn’t he know what to do?

Then the smoke parts, and in front of him sits a foxhound, head tilted and tail swishing back and forth. The voices blend and merge until they become a single, clear voice, and Merlin drops his hands from his ears.

“This was a mistake.”

Suddenly it isn’t a pup, but a man sitting in front of Merlin, aquamarine eyes boring into his own. Eggsy opens his mouth to say something more, but then he’s screaming, engulfed in flames.

“Eggsy!” Merlin yells and arches up out of his bed, eyes wide and arm outstretched.

Then his hand is being gripped, and he turns his head to find those same eyes looking at him with fear.

“Merlin, it’s okay. I’m here. Everythings alright, it was just a dream.”

For a moment it’s too much, and Merlin pulls his hand from Eggsy’s grip. All he can see is the flames in Eggsy’s hair, hear Eggsy’s voice claiming this a mistake.

Like he can sense Merlin’s distress, Eggsy backs away. But then standing in his place is the pup. He jumps up on the bed and curls up at Merlin’s side, nose nudging the hand gripping the sheets.

Merlin shudders then lays back down to curl around Eggsy. He buries his face in his neck, and runs his shaking hands through his warm fur.

It takes a long time for Merlin’s breathing to return to normal, and longer for the trembling to stop. But eventually the horror fades and he falls back into an exhausted sleep, completely missing Eggsy shifting back to human form and gripping tight to his arms.

Eggsy wakes up the next morning knowing exactly where he is. It would have been hard not to when he’s laying on his back in Merlin’s bed, the man half-spread across his chest, his face hidden in the crook of his neck as if shying away from the sun. Something which Eggsy doesn’t blame him for. He still has some difficulty figuring out what hour it is based only on the light filtering into the room through the curtains, but he’d say it’s still mid-morning.

After the two days and nights they’ve had, Eggsy would be the first one to insist on lying in bed all day.

He cannot suppress a shiver when he remembers the distress that woke him from his own uneasy dreams. He doesn’t know what images had disturbed Merlin’s sleep, but whatever it was, it must have been pretty horrible.

His arms tighten reflexively around him and he hopes he’ll never again have reason to shake in fear like he did last night. Not because it made him uncomfortable, Eggsy doesn’t give a shit about being clung to and used as comfort, but because his human is a proud one and he doesn’t have to wait for him to wake up to know he won’t like having displayed his torment so openly.

Much like he won’t like it when Eggsy insists on knowing the details of his nightmares, but after such a reaction, they can’t ignore what happened.

Maybe he’s being too hasty, but if the dreams become reoccurring, it is possible Merlin’s magic will become affected to an extent even Eggsy won’t be able to balance out.

He’d much prefer putting a strain on their bond again by pushing Merlin, rather than seeing him wander on a self-destructive path.

He feels Merlin stir against him and for a moment, he hopes that all their days will start the same way, with them slowly waking up beside each other.

He’s quickly reminded of the reality of the situation when Merlin suddenly tenses and pushes away from him, looking confused and longing all in one. They both sit up, but unlike yesterday, there is now a distance between them.

“Eggsy?” His voice is still rough from just having woken up and he doesn’t look well-rested at all, but that doesn’t come as much of a surprise. Eggsy pretty sure he’s got some dark circles under his eyes himself. “What are you doing here? When did you get here?”

“Sometime last night… You don’t remember?”

The confusion lifts from Merlin’s expression only to be replaced by a wince.

“I was having a nightmare and you came to me.”

He nods, but doesn’t say anything, waiting to see if Merlin will volunteer anymore on the subject without being prompted.

“Thank you,” the words are hard to come, but Eggsy doesn’t doubt their sincerity.

He waits for a bit, but it soon becomes clear that Merlin isn’t about to say anything more about it.

“What was it about?”

For a moment, he’s certain Merlin will answer him, right until his expression closes off. It’s not quite a scowl, but it sure isn’t a look Eggsy cares much for.

“Nothing… It was nothing.”

They both know that he’s lying and maybe if it had been about anything else, Eggsy would have let him get away with it, but this is too important. It might have been a simple nightmare, but it also has the potential to cause harm to Merlin and, consequently, to their bond. Eggsy’s not naive enough to think they’ll never hurt each other, especially not after their rocky start, but he refuses to do nothing while Merlin’s suffering.

“That wasn’t ‘nothing’, not when it woke me in a panic just from what bled into the bond.”

There’s a glint of guilt in Merlin’s eyes before he turns his head away, as if he stops looking at him, Eggsy will drop the subject.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well tough luck, because I do!” He cups Merlin’s cheeks in his hands as gently as his words were harsh, relieved when the man lets him touch him even after his little outburst. “Sorry, didn’t mean to shout…”

He wouldn’t be surprised if Merlin refuses to speak to him now.

It shows that they still have a lot to learn about each other when Merlin leans into the contact, albeit hesitantly, not unlike an animal that’s been hurt, instead of shutting off completely.

“Why?” It’s a simple question and a legitimate one at that, even if the answer is complicated and has many layers. “What does it matter if I tell you or not? It won’t change them... “

Eggsy shivers at how defeated Merlin sounds, but it only serves to strengthen his resolve.

“It matters because I care. Because you’re not alone anymore and I won’t let you forget it.”

That makes Merlin smile a bit as he takes his hand in his, pressing lightly before releasing it.

“What if I tell you that it’s not the first time I’ve had them? That I’ve tried everything in the past to get them to stop, but now that they’re back they’ll continue until one day they’ll just stop by themselves?”

“Still care, still want to know. Any burden that’s yours, I want to share it. That’s what being partners is all about.”

There’s something very soft in Merlin’s eyes when he looks at him now and Eggsy wishes he could slide closer to him, as close as they were yesterday, but he doesn’t need the bond to know that it would be a bad idea. Merlin might not want to flee anymore, but he’s still skittish. One false move and the discussion will end before it’s really started.

They look at each other for some time until Merlin sighs again, sounding like the weight of the world lay on his shoulders. He looks away again, but this time it’s only to brace himself when the words start falling from his lips.

“They start with the fire. Sometimes Harry is there, sometime my parents… but it always ends that I fail everything and everyone.” The words speak of a soul-deep ache Eggsy has no hope of soothing anytime soon, if at all, but that won’t stop him from trying.

He can see that’s not the worst, though, so he waits, watching Merlin struggle to say the last of it.

“And last night… it was you.” Merlin whispers it with so much pain in his voice, and Eggsy might have no control over Merlin’s dreams, but he’ll be damned if he lets him be consumed by irrational waking fears.

Without interrupting him, letting him go at the pace he wants, Eggsy listens all morning, a hand resting on his knee the only comfort Merlin accepts and one he would never refuse him.


	7. Chapter 7

Eggsy is not quite hiding in the gardens, because that would imply he wants to avoid Merlin which he really doesn’t. He just needs to escape the heavy atmosphere of the lab for a bit.

It’s not even really Merlin’s fault, because even with his minimal role in creating the potions asked by Valentine Corporation, Eggsy also feels the stress creeping up on him, slowly but surely.

What they both need is some time off and not merely to visit Harry at the estate. It’s always nice of course and Eggsy has made it a point that they should meet up with him at least once a week, either there or here at the house, but it’s part of their routine. Merlin is always more relaxed after spending a day with him and somehow, Eggsy feels even more connected to him whenever Harry’s around, but they need something different this time.

Something that would truly take their minds off of the upcoming deadlines and maybe even something that would keep the nightmares at bay for at least one night.

Not that Eggsy really has nightmares himself, but he sleeps rather fretfully until he feels Merlin’s distress through the bond and leaves his bed for Merlin’s instead, curling around the man to protect him against the nameless horrors haunting him in his dreams.

It never fails to work, but it doesn’t change the fact that they only get any kind of rest for half a night before they have to get up and face the day again. If nothing changes, he fears that one of them might have a breakdown, if it’s not both.

With a sigh, he gives up on trying to coax the vines to grow more leaves. In his state of mind, there’s a risk he’ll hurt the plants instead and that’s the last thing he wants to do. They’ve worked so hard on their garden, even more so since Eggsy has taken human form and he would do everything in his power to keep it their perfect little haven. Even if it means staying away from it when it’s one of the last comforts he gets nowadays.

He rolls on his back, staring at the clouds in the sky without seeing them, only to be startled out of his thoughts when a ladybird lands on his nose. He should have expected it really, the bugs in the garden always attracted to him once he’s done working his magic on the plants, as if they understand they cannot disturb his concentration, but still unwilling to stay away longer than necessary.

The sensation of its tiny legs light on his skin makes him chuckle and he wishes Merlin was here to share in the moment. That they could both be lazing together, looking at the sky.

If only there were stars to see at night, he’s sure he could convince him to come out and enjoy the garden he works so hard for. But there are none to see in the city. The few times Eggsy had thought he could see one, it had turned out to be a firefly drawn to their magic…

The ladybird takes flight at the same moment, doing lazy circles above his eyes while he smiles with excitement at the idea he’s just gotten. It’s so simple he cannot believe he hasn’t thought of it before, but there’s no use lingering on that now.

He’s got a few things to prepare if he wants to be ready in time and he needs to be sneaky about the whole thing if he wants any chance of surprising Merlin with his plan.

“Come with me.”

Merlin sighs and sets down his pen, but keeps his eyes on his books. “Not right now, Eggsy. Let me finish this research and then I can take a break.”

“No.”

His shoulders tense and he turns his head slowly to peer at Eggsy. “What did you say?”

Merlin turns on his stool and watches as Eggsy steps in from the back door and kneels down at his feet. “No, I won’t wait for you to finish your research. You need a break… _we_ need a break, and I won’t let you put it off to _finish_ research that will never truly be done.” He reaches out and sets a hand on Merlin’s knee, and as quickly as the tension came it bleeds away. “Please, Merlin. You trust me, yeah?”

“Of course I do,” Merlin says earnestly.

“Then close the books and come with me.”

Eggsy’s eyes are soft and Merlin has to stop himself from reaching out to cup Eggsy’s cheek in his hand. Instead he nods and turns to clean up the table of all the books.

In the weeks since Eggsy gained his human form, Merlin’s found himself having to consciously refrain from seeking comfort by touching Eggsy. Merlin is drawn to his quick wit and endearing smile. Eggsy’s smart, quick to learn, and together their magic has grown tenfold. Merlin’s proud of Eggsy, but he’s quickly coming to realize he’s also extremely attracted to him, and it’s getting harder to ignore.

It’s easier when Eggsy is a pup. Merlin can imagine that his feelings are just an extension of their bond - kinship, partners, equals. He allows himself the comfort of Eggsy’s closeness, hands resting in his fur, Eggsy’s head settled on his thigh as they work or rest.

Or sleep.

Merlin shudders as he piles up the books, memories of the nightmares making his skin prickle with goosebumps. It’s difficult convincing himself to crawl into bed alone each night. He wants to ask Eggsy to stay with him, to keep Eggsy close and protected. But he can’t. Eggsy can’t possibly feel the same way about him, and with the lad in his arms Merlin is sure he’d be unable to keep to the semblance of normalcy they’ve managed.

But it doesn’t stop him from clinging to Eggsy’s furry form when he wakes in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and calling out in fear. Or from feeling relief at knowing Eggsy’s safe as he falls into a dreamless sleep, Eggsy’s wet nose pressed against his side.

With a shake of his head he pushes aside that train of thought. He quickly finishes straightening the table and turns back to Eggsy. As if he could sense Merlin’s troubled thoughts, Eggsy is still sitting at Merlin’s feet but now as the foxhound.

Merlin reaches out and pets his head gently. “Alright, I’m done. What is it that you wanted to show me?”

Eggsy licks his wrist and then pads quietly to the back door with Merlin following behind.

When they step outside things look much like they usually do on the evenings they come out. The only difference is a large blanket spread across the grass in the middle of the garden, and a basket tucked neatly to the side.

Eggsy gives a soft bark and lays down on the blanket.

“Shall I join you?”

Another bark and Merin sits down as gracefully as he can. It’s a beautiful night, cool in the late autumn, but still and quiet from the neighboring yards. Their garden is a little oasis of still blooming summer plants and busy insects.

A paw on his shoulder has Merlin falling onto his back with a surprised laugh, and Eggsy’s furry face looking down at him with mischievous eyes.

“Alright, alright,” Merlin chuckles. “I’m here, I’m laying down. What now?”

Eggsy settles back down next to him and Merlin feels him reaching out with his magic.

At first he doesn’t notice anything, but then slowly he sees a flickering of lights in the air above him. As the seconds tick by, more and more appear, swirling and dancing lazily.

“Fireflies,” Merlin whispers in awe. He’s never seen so many in one place before.

Beside him, Eggsy nudges his arm then curls up so his head is on his paws. There is a handwidth of space between them, but suddenly it feels like so much more and so very _wrong_. Merlin reaches out and wraps his arm around Eggsy’s body, scooting and shifting until Eggsy’s head lays on his chest and his hand is slowly running over the fur on his side.

As he watches the fireflies blink in and out of existence against the night sky, he thinks that he finally, truly feels at home.

Oddly enough, even if he’s lying directly on top of him and his fingers are still carding through his fur, Eggsy doesn’t feel close enough to Merlin.

It’s not because of the bond since for once it is completely open, the both of them so at peace, they probably couldn’t block it off if they wanted to. He wishes he could wrap himself up in it like he would a blanket, Merlin’s emotions so soft and gentle, yet deeper than any oceans. They echo his own perfectly, making their magic flow between them seamlessly.

It’s getting harder to distinguish which magic is whose, not that it is in any way worrying. It continues to feel _right_ like very few things have in all his years. It only gets better when Merlin doesn’t wall off part of it, which isn’t a concern tonight.

It takes him longer than he’d admit to understand what makes him feel so distant when not even a sheet of paper could come between them. It’s so simple an answer that it is a real mystery why he hasn’t realised before.

Eggsy won’t ever be ashamed of any part of himself, but he cannot pretend anymore that he’s only a familiar who just happens to turn into a human sometimes.

He’s both dog and human, and if his canine side is easily satisfied, the same cannot be said of the human one. His needs and desires have become much more complex.

Not that this particular desire isn’t the simplest in the world.

He wants to be held and hold in return, to take Merlin’s hands in his and for their fingers to intertwine. He wants to be as close to him as the night before the nightmares started. Closer even, if such a thing was possible.

He hesitates to take on his human form however. Merlin can become so weird around him when he does and the moment is near perfect as it is, he doesn’t want to ruin the night for either of them.

But it is so hard to resist doing so, with their magic urging him gently, the currents feeling nearly tangible against him.

With a deep breath, he decides to do what he does best, and follows his instincts.

Merlin doesn’t miss the change, but when he looks down from the constellations of fireflies, it’s only to offer Eggsy a tender smile, one of his hands coming up from around his waist to ruffle his hair fondly.

“Thank you,” the words are barely above a whisper, but something in the way Merlin says them makes him shiver. Or maybe that’s just the nails lightly scratching his scalp, the warm palm against the back of his neck…

Luckily, even if it had not been too dark for Merlin to see it, the man turns his eyes back to the fireflies before he can spot Eggsy’s blush. That doesn’t stop Eggsy from hiding his face into Merlin’s chest, but somehow, instead of calming him like it usually does, his scent makes his heart beat all that much faster.

It’s not an unpleasant sensation, but it is one he isn’t familiar with, making him all twitchy and yearning for something _more_.

What exactly, he has no idea, and instead of breaking the moment to ask Merlin, he sits up, careful that their sides are still pressed together, and reaches for the basket he’s prepared.

It’s nothing elaborate, some bread with cheese and all the fruits he could put his hands on, but the food isn’t what tonight is about.

Anyway, Merlin doesn’t seem to mind, if the way he starts stealing berries before Eggsy is even done laying their meal in front of them is any indication.

He chuckles when Eggsy bats his hands away, the sound filling Eggsy with warmth and pride at having accomplished his goal. He blushes again when Merlin feeds him a slice of orange in a playful demand for forgiveness while he’s busy serving their tea from the thermos it has been kept in. This time however, he doesn’t care if Merlin sees it, because he’s just that _happy_ and he feels like nothing can ever take that away from him.

They eat slowly under the fireflies, lingering outside for longer than is truly advisable, neither of them willing to break the moment.

In the end, the weather forces their hand when it starts raining, dispersing the fireflies, and they hurry inside lest they become drenched. It’s so late that Merlin doesn’t even insist that they deal with the basket and just leaves it on the table for the next morning, the blanket they had been sitting on stuffed in it.

Eggsy is reluctant to say goodnight once they reach the top of the stairs even if he’s so tired he can barely keep his eyes open. He wants to stay with Merlin, cuddled up against him, to fall asleep to the sound of his breathing. The only problem is that he doesn’t know how to ask for it.

Lost in inner deliberations as he is, he startles a bit when Merlin grabs his hand, only to relax at once, struggling not to lean closer to his inviting warmth.

“Would you… Would you come sleep with me? Please?”

He nods, words stuck in his throat for some reason, letting Merlin lead him to his bedroom and wondering why his heart is racing again.

It calms down soon enough once they are both lying in bed, curled into each other, Eggsy lulled into a deep sleep by the light circles Merlin traces against his back.

Merlin sleeps better now. The nightmares still come, but not every night. And when they do, he wakes to whispered reassurances and warm arms holding him close.

He knows it’s nothing more than that -- comfort from a shared distress -- but Merlin selfishly clings to it anyways. He still gives Eggsy his space during the day, encourages Eggsy to take time by himself in his room to read or sleep. But now he’s greedy for their nights shared curled around each other.

And if it means he also starts spending more time in the shower in the mornings, biting his cheek to keep from calling Eggsy’s name, no one else needs to know.

Eggsy is still debating whether or not he should talk with Harry when the man tells him to stop cutting the vegetables he’s preparing for the sauce they’re making together.

“Am I doing something wrong?” He doesn’t think he is, since cutting food is a pretty straightforward action, but he’s the first to admit he’s no expert at cooking. He’s made leaps since his first attempts, but like learning how to read, cooking isn’t that easy and some things are still a mystery to him.

“No, but I can tell there’s something on your mind…” He doesn’t ask, lets him choose for himself if he wants to speak or not.

It’s that consideration that convinces Eggsy in the end. He might not have known Harry for that long, but already, he has that uncanny ability to know exactly what Eggsy needs. He’s the same way with Merlin, except that in his case, he rarely takes ‘no’ for an answer, confident that he knows what is best for him after years of brotherhood and friendship. And so far, Eggsy hasn’t seen him be wrong even once.

“Lately I feel- I feel weird around Merlin.” For the first time since he’s taken human form, he’s grateful that Merlin has left him behind at the house while he goes to his meeting with the Valentine Corporations’ representative. He knows that if he had asked, Merlin would have given them space and privacy, but the words come more easily when he’s sure no one can overhear them.

“Weird how?” Harry’s leaning against the sink now, concern clear in his eyes but doing nothing to hurry Eggsy’s along.

“Not ‘bad’ weird… Just weird. It’s not like it was before.” If it has anything to do with the bond, he doubts that Harry will be able to help him, but he cannot go to Merlin either. They’re closer than they ever were, but for some reason, since their little picnic under the fireflies, Merlin seems _shy_ around him. The last thing he wants is to make him feel even more self-conscious. “It’s always been nice but now sometimes my heart races, I blush at nothing and no matter how close we are, it never feels enough. But the weirdest thing is that I- I get hard?”

For a long moment, Harry just stares at him silently and Eggsy thinks he’ll have to be more specific about what exactly gets hard. Before he can add anything however, Harry’s blank expression change for one of pure disbelief.

“Do I really need to give you the birds and the bees talk?”

“The what now? What does that have to do with me getting hard?” Try as he might, he simply doesn’t see the connection between the two.

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose, in the same way Merlin does when he’s either deep in thoughts or frustrated beyond relief. He wonders who picked up the gesture from whom and what it means when Harry does it.

“Don’t take it the wrong way Eggsy, but I need a drink before we continue this.” It would worry him if Harry didn’t seem so amused by the whole situation. “Want one?”

He looks at the bottle of scotch Harry is gently shaking in his direction, a bit tempted, but he ends up declining. He quickly found out that he’s a lightweight when it comes to alcohol and anyway, he still doesn’t understand why any conversation more important than small talk supposedly requires a drink.

“So what’s this about the birds and the bees?” Maybe he should have waited until Harry had swallowed his first sip to ask again, but even if he winces while it goes down, his amusement is still plain to see.

“Let’s sit down, the sauce will keep for now.” Eggsy thinks for a moment that Harry will keep finding ways to delay answering, but he’s proven wrong as soon as they have both taken a seat. “Sometimes I forget that you’re not really human… The birds and the bees talk is one way to refer to the talk we usually give to children or teenagers about sex.”

It’s Eggsy’s turn to get a blank expression while Harry’s fills with a quiet horror at his lack of reaction.

“Please tell me you do know what sex is?”

That startles him out of his thoughts and he cannot stop the amused snort that escapes him.

“Of course I know what sex is! I’m just trying to understand what that has to do with birds and bees.”

Harry chuckles at that and shakes his head.

“It’s a metaphor -- and a rather poor one at that -- because some people are too prudish to use the real words. But you don’t want to talk about that human silliness, do you?”

“No, I want to know why I’m… like that when I’m around Merlin.”

“Well that’s simple enough… You’re attracted to him.”

His first reflex is to deny it, but Harry would know what he’s talking about, wouldn’t he?

“You- You think?”

“It’s either that or it’s a magical condition I know nothing of. But based only on how you’ve been looking at him lately, I’d bet on the first.”

He hadn’t been aware he had been looking at Merlin any differently, but Harry chuckles again and pats his hand gently when he tells him so.

“You look at him like he holds all the answers to the universe. And we both know that he really doesn’t.”

They both laugh this time, even if Eggsy is still mulling over Harry’s revelation.

Could it be as simple as that? Just him being attracted to Merlin?

Strangely enough, with all their talk of being partners, he hasn’t once considered Merlin as a potential mate.

The thought makes him blush, but he cannot pretend it’s an unpleasant one.

Merlin’s kind and supportive, willing to make compromises. He wants the people around him happy, but he refuses to lose himself in his attempts to make them so. He’s stubborn, but reliable.

It’s also no hardship to remember how he looked naked in the bath, back when he had had no idea of who Eggsy truly was. When he feels the now familiar stirrings in his loins at that memory, he’s quick to bury the image deep down and focus his attention back on Harry.

“What should I do?”

“You should tell Merlin.” The words are barely out of Harry’s mouth before he’s shaking his head.

There’s no way he can tell Merlin. He had wanted a companion, someone to assist him with his magic. If he had wanted another kind of relationship, he wouldn’t have called for a familiar. Wouldn’t have needed any kind of ritual to find the right mate.

His stomach is queasy at the thought of Merlin with someone else, but he does his best so that Harry cannot see the distress he’s in at the idea.

Luckily for him, Harry seems to have no desire to convince him to listen to his advice, even if he mutters something that sounds oddly like ‘of course you won’t take the easy way’.

What he means by that, Eggsy prefers not knowing.

“Then I suggest you start wanking,” is Harry’s next advice, after he’s taken another sip of his scotch.

“What’s that?”

Harry raises an eyebrow at him, as if he expects Eggsy to say he’s just joking, that of course he knows what wanking is, but the truth is, Eggsy really doesn’t.

“Masturbate?” He offers instead, pairing the word with a motion of his hand that can’t be mistaken for anything other than what it is in the context of their discussion. “Touching yourself until you orgasm… Or release or ejaculate, if you prefer.” For someone who hadn’t wanted to give the sex talk, he seems much too gleeful finding synonyms.

Not that Eggsy is embarrassed, just a bit dumbfounded.

“People do that?”

“Most people, yes.” He grows serious again at Eggsy’s honest question. “Women too, even if the mechanics of it is slightly different. Not that it should concern you.” He’s right about that, even if he was to meet a woman, he doubts he’d look at her twice with Merlin around. “What do you do when you get hard?”

“Ignore it until it goes away.” Even if it keeps getting harder and harder to do so, no pun intended. Harry must guess as much from his expression, because he doesn’t ask more on the subject.

“Try wanking next time. Either in bed or in the shower, but I suggest a bed for the first time.”

“Do I need anything before I start?” Harry makes it sounds very easy, but it’s not like Eggsy has any practical experience with it. He’s never felt something like that in his dog form after all.

“Just your hand and a healthy imagination. And some tissues. It gets messy at the end.”

“And if-” He’s not sure what he was about to ask but Harry doesn’t let him finish.

“Trust me Eggsy, it’s pretty instinctive. Once you start, you just keep doing what feels the best. And if that fails -- and only if it does -- I’ll explain to you what porn is and how you can find it.”

He drains the rest of his drink and gives a longing look to the bottle, before getting up and going back behind the oven.

“For now, let’s just finish making dinner.”

“What’s this then?”

Merlin smiles and gestures to the table. Eggsy had gone out for a bit, and Merlin had planned on doing some work. Instead, he’d found himself distracted from his reading with a desire to do something special for Eggsy instead.

The tea set on the table is one that Harry had given to him a few years after he’d moved in. It doesn’t get used very often, Merlin preferring to just make a cuppa and get back to work. But as Eggsy walks over and gently picks up one of the cups, he’s glad that he dug it out.

“Sit down, I have something that I want to show you.”

As Eggsy sets down the cup and sits on the stool, Merlin turns off the kettle and brings it over to the table.

“I’ve been tinkering with my tea magic, and I finally came up with something worth sharing.” He pours the hot water into the teapot before returning the kettle to the kitchen and grabbing a tea bag from the counter.

Sitting next to Eggsy, Merlin holds out his hand to show him.

Eggsy leans over and looks at the image drawn on the bag. “Is that a phoenix?”

“Aye. Now, just watch.”

Carefully, Merlin reaches out and drops the bag into the teapot. Instantly the pot begins to glow, like someone has turned a light on inside it. From the top unfurls a plume of colors -- red, purple, orange -- curling and twisting in the air until suddenly the image of a phoenix shoots straight out. It stops, halfway between the table and the ceiling and spreads it’s wings wide, head back and beak open as though calling out in triumph. It hangs there for a split second before it puffs away in a shower of lights, like fireworks.

For a moment there is silence, but then Eggsy is laughing, high and giddy and amazed.

Merlin loves the sound of Eggsy’s laughter, the way his delight is infectious. _Christ, I love him_ , he thinks. As soon as he registers the thought, Merlin’s chest squeezes tight, and he does his best to block the spike of panic from Eggsy, who is already planning out loud what else they could try making.

But he can’t focus on what Eggsy is saying, there is only one thought currently racing through his mind. He loves Eggsy -- more than a friend or partner, he’s _in love_ with Eggsy.

_Shite._

Harry was right, wanking does help.

It’s strange at first, in a good way, but quickly Eggsy finds it not enough on it’s own. His mind wanders from just the sensations of his hand to Merlin and the things he finds attractive about him.  His arms, that hold him close at night. His back, as he leans over his work. His hands, grinding herbs and making food and drawing shapes against his skin.

Eggsy spends his free time now thinking about what it might be like if Merlin actually wanted him as a mate and not just as a partner. He wanks whenever he needs to, but it’s starting to become more frequent, less satisfying when he’s done.

He’s doomed.

Merlin closes his book and sets it in his lap. He hasn’t retained a word he’s read in the past hour and he’s done pretending he has.

Across the room Harry is fiddling with a needle and thread. When Eggsy and Merlin had arrived earlier in the day, Harry had insisted that Eggsy try on some of the most recent clothes he had finished. That had resulted in Harry having several items that needed adjustments, and Merlin’s mind swimming with thoughts of Eggsy’s toned abs and the fine blush across his cheeks.

Merlin sighs and makes up his mind. It will probably be another few hours before Eggsy comes back in from the woods, and now seems an ideal time to seek his friend’s help.

“Harry-” Merlin starts. But as soon as the name is out of his mouth he regrets saying anything. “No nevermind.”

Harry looks over at him in silence, an eyebrow quirked in question, but Merlin just shakes his head.

“What is it?”

“It’s just that… No, it’s nothing.” Merlin looks down in his lap and opens his book once more. _This was a bad idea,_ he thinks and pretends to go back to his reading.

From across the room Harry considers him and then seems to come to a decision. Merlin sees him set down his needle and quickly clean up his work from the corner of his eye. He picks up a stool and his teacup from the table and walks over to sit next to Merlin.

“Please tell me this isn’t about wanking, because I know for a fact that you know how to.”

Merlin looks up from his book and lets it fall closed once more. “What? Why would you even ask that?”

Harry just sips his tea and shrugs his shoulder, attempting his most innocent look. Merlin doesn’t have the energy to try and grill Harry for an answer, so he lets it go.

“My problem has nothing to do with that.” He’s hit with a wave of guilt as his mind flashes back to earlier in the morning, when he came in the shower, biting down onto his own hand so as to not moan out loud. “But there _is_ a problem.”

When he doesn’t continue, Harry simply waits. Merlin considers his words before finally deciding that bluntness is the best course of action.

“I’m in love with Eggsy.”

He expects some sort of reaction. A claim that it’s not right, or that Merlin needs to keep from taking advantage of Eggsy. At the very least a raised eyebrow and a cheeky comment. Instead, Harry takes another sip of his tea. “And how is this a problem?”

“It’s a problem,” Merlin starts, resting his elbows onto his knees and leaning into Harry’s space, “because he’s my familiar. Because he's young and he's smart, he's beautiful and resourceful and- and he doesn't think of me like that.”

Merlin feels himself growing tense. Saying it out loud is supposed to make him feel better. Instead, he’s reminded why he’s never had a serious relationship. Besides Harry, he’s never been this close to another person.

Lovers only ever lasted a few months, never keen on how he gets lost in his work or forgets about anything outside of his herbs and spells.

But then Eggsy appears and accepts him for exactly how he is. But only as a friend, a partner. And it hurts.

Harry sets aside his cup, and reaches out to lay a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “You know, I’m sure Eggsy finds you have most of those qualities too. And he'd be right. You might not be young anymore, but you're handsome, you're definitely smart and you're one of the most loyal people I've ever met.”

Merlin’s about to respond, deny Harry’s words, when there is a thump at the window. When Merlin shoots him a questioning look, Harry simply leans back on his stool and picks his tea back up.

It takes a surprising amount of effort not to roll his eyes, but he manages, and instead Merlin gets up to walk to the window. When he pulls aside the curtain he finds himself face to face with a pup and bird. Eggsy’s paws are up on the windowsill and his wet nose is pressed against the glass, tongue lolling out happily. Daisy hops back and forth on his head twittering.

Merlin can’t help the smile that he gets at the sight. He taps at the glass and Eggsy backs away. By the time the window is all the way open, Eggsy is standing on two legs and Daisy is flying around near his shoulders. The air is cold as it blows in, but Eggsy doesn’t seem to notice in the new coat and scarf Harry has given him.

“Merlin, you and Harry have to come out! Daisy and I want to build a snow castle, like in that book I read, but we don’t know how. You’ll come and help, right? Please?”

Merlin glances behind himself to find Harry already heading out of the room and towards the front door. He shakes his head and smiles fondly. “We’ll be right out.”

He closes the window on Eggsy grinning like a fool and racing Daisy around the side of the house. His heart aches in his chest, but he ignores it, used to pushing away his feelings.

He refuses to let his love for Eggsy ruin what they have, the trust and closeness that Eggsy shows him. Straightening his shoulders, he follows Harry out of the room, determined to enjoy what he can.


	8. Chapter 8

They’ve just finished lunch and cleaning up together and Eggsy would usually help Merlin with his work, but today he simply cannot.

To think he had felt so nice and warm that morning when he had woken up with Merlin at his back, his arms wrapped around him holding him close. He had felt _happy_.

Right until he had noticed just how close Merlin’s hands where to his cock and remembered the last fantasy he had thought of where, instead of his own hands, it had been Merlin’s around him.

Somehow, he had managed to fall asleep again without embarrassing himself, but he had woken up all keyed up.

He hadn’t believed his luck when he had realised Merlin had already gotten up, for once not annoyed in the slightest that the man had left him in alone bed. But then, as he was leaving the bedroom to get dressed, he had very nearly run into Merlin who had just finished his shower.

A half-naked Merlin, with droplets of water drawing the eyes to some very well-defined muscles that begged to be touched and-

Eggsy had fled into his own room, hoping that Merlin hadn’t noticed how red his cheeks had become.

It should have helped that when they both went downstairs, Merlin had thankfully been entirely dressed, in a soft-looking jumper that hid his form perfectly.

But Eggsy had known for weeks now that he was a goner and he had spent the rest of the morning picturing exactly what was hidden underneath the fabric.

And now he simply cannot take any more, not even bothering to remove his trouser before taking himself in hand, trying to remember how Merlin arms around him had felt that morning, the way his breath had brushed against his neck, the warmth of him…

What would have happened if his hand a trailed just that tiny bit further down? If it had snuck into his sleeping pants to wrap around his cock? Would Merlin be slow about it? Would he go fast?

He bites back a moan and stills for a moment to calm himself. He wants release sure, but he doesn’t want to rush into it, not when all that waits for him at the end is an empty bed and the sounds of Merlin working downstairs, completely unaware of what he does to Eggsy simply by existing.

Before he can bring himself even lower in dejection, he conjures up again the scene he had been fantasizing about, except this time, he tries to imagine what it would have felt like if they had both been naked, skin to skin. How it would feel if Merlin were to press his lips against the back of his neck. How would he react to kisses against his shoulders and his back?

What would happen if he were to turn around to return the kisses? If he were to reach for Merlin’s skin too?

He wonders how Merlin’s cock would feel against his palm, if it would be much different than his own.

Then, there’s a knock at his door and, before he can react in any way, Merlin lets himself in, his excitement morphing into shock as he takes in the scene in front of him.

He’s frozen in place. A very tiny voice in the back of his head is yelling for him to leave, to back out and close the door and hope that Eggsy will forgive him. But a much larger part of Merlin is desperate to take in the sight before him.

Eggsy is laid out on his back, trousers pull down to his thighs and shirt rucked up under his chin. His fist is wrapped around his cock and he can see desire and confusion warring on his face. Merlin’s never seen a more tempting sight.

“Uh… There was an ingredient… for the- the potion. I thought…” Merlin finally drags his eyes away and stares instead at his hand on the edge of the door, knuckles white from his grip. “I’m sorry, Eggsy, I shouldn’t have just walked in.”

There is a rustle of fabric, and Merlin eyes are drawn back in time to see Eggsy give himself a final, desperate squeeze before pulling up his trousers and tucking himself away. They do nothing to lessen the hard line of his cock as he sits up on the bed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to see that.” The look on Eggsy’s face seems to say everything, and Merlin instantly feels ashamed that he’s lingered so long.

“No, no. I’m the one who barged in. I’ll just, uh… let you finish. I’ll be downstairs.” Merlin can’t help but feel disgust at himself twisting with the yearning he still feels over finding Eggsy wanking. Of course Merlin isn’t someone he’d want catching him like this. They’re just partners, friends, nothing more.

He turns and takes a step back through the door, unable to keep from muttering under his breath, “Even though I’m sure I’ve just ruined the mood…”

“What? No! You didn’t ruin anything! I was thinking about you!” Merlin stops and his breath catches in his chest before he turns around to look at Eggsy. He can’t help the spark of hope that flairs at the words, and he’s sure that Eggsy can read it clear as day on his face.

Eggsy squirms under Merlin’s stare and he looks down at his hands resting in his lap. “Well- I mean, that’s not really-”

“Of course, I understand. You weren’t really thinking about _me_.” Merlin scoffs and quickly shuts all his emotions away; rebuilds the fortress around his feelings that he’d used as a child and that had eroded completely when Eggsy had come into his life. This is a nightmare, and now he needs to do everything he can to protect himself. He’ll be lucky if Eggsy decides he wants to stay with him after this mess.

He goes to leave again when Eggsy calls out “Wait!”

Merlin stops, even though all he wants to do is get as far away as possible. Eggsy jumps out of bed, so that they are standing face to face and his hands waver in the air, as if he’s not sure how well his touch would be welcomed. “I _was_ thinking about you. I haven’t been thinking of anything else _but_ you! I- Please don’t hate me. Don’t force me to go… I don’t think I could live without you.”

Something eases, just a bit, in Merlin’s chest when Eggsy says he doesn’t want to leave. But he quickly sets his jaw and forces himself not to let down his walls again. “Eggsy, I’m not going to make you go anywhere you don’t want to. And I could never hate you. But you don’t have to say that… or make it into something it’s not. I know you don’t know many other people, so it makes sense that- that your mind would wander to someone that’s familiar.”

Eggsy stiffens and takes a step closer. Merlin can feel the frustration radiating from him, reminding him of how things had felt that first day Eggsy had taken his human form. He hates that Eggsy feels that way again.

“I may not have a lot of experience, but don’t treat me like I’m just a kid. I talked to Harry, and I spent a lot of time thinking about how I was feeling. You weren’t just the _first person_ to pop into my head when I got hard. You were the _only_ person and the _reason_ I was like that in the first place! If you don't like me it's fine, but don't tell me I don't love you, because I do!”

Eggsy’s hands are balled into fists at his sides and he’s trembling. The tension in the air between them is palpable, but Merlin can only stand there, frozen by Eggsy’s words.

“Wha- What did you say?”

Eggsy’s mouth falls open just a bit and his face turns bright red before he sinks down to sit on the bed. The tension from moments before melts away, and in its place comes anxiety, shame, even fear. Merlin feels it deep inside, pulling at his very core, and for the first time he truly allows himself to consider the depth of their bond and how important it is.

“I love you,” Eggsy whispers. “I didn’t… I wasn’t going to tell you. I know you weren’t looking for a mate when you called me, and I wasn’t either, but then you were so amazing and I… But it doesn’t have to change anything. I swear down that I’ll stop-”

It only takes two strides for Merlin to cross the room and sink down to his knees in front of Eggsy.

“Eggsy.”

“-I won’t make a big deal-”

“Eggsy!”

“-just don’t make me go, _please-”_

“ _Eggsy_.”

Merlin reaches out for Eggsy -- hand on his calf and pushing his intent through the bond -- and Eggsy’s mouth snaps shut.

Merlin meets his eyes, and everything just stops. The emotions that he has tried so hard to wall up and keep safe suddenly break free and the words just pour out. “You have no idea how hard it’s been not telling you how I feel. You are so brilliant and my life has been so much better with you in it. And I didn’t think you felt the same way. I thought you wouldn’t understand, so I just shut it away. But Eggsy, please, you have to know now. I- I love you too.”

Through the bond Merlin pushes every feeling that he’s kept locked away since he found out who Eggsy was. Pride, admiration, awe, love, desire. He watches as Eggsy swallows thickly, taking in every new feeling.

Then Eggsy’s slipping to the floor and crawling up into his lap. Instantly Merlin wraps his arms around him, pulling Eggsy as close as he can.

“You really want me to be your mate? I mean, that is what you-”

Merlin laughs. “Aye, that is what I want, what I mean.”

Eggsy laughs too, the sound full of hope and promise.

For several long minutes they just sit there, wrapped around each other and feeling their shared love and happiness. But eventually a tendril of desire starts pressing against the bond. Merlin feels Eggsy gently rocking in his lap, his heart beating faster under the hand pressed to his back.

“So I suppose now that is all cleared up, you’ll want to be finishing what you were doing.”

Eggsy lets out a breathy little moan and starts grinding harder into Merlin’s lap. “Only if I don’t have to be alone this time.”

Merlin slides his hands down Eggsy’s back and squeezes his arse. “I’m not letting you go now that I have you, pup.”

Eggsy lifts his head and brushes his lips against Merlin’s ear. “What are you waiting for then? Take me to our bed.”

They enter the room still tangled around each other. Merlin navigates across it by memory, eyes closed as he greedily sucks bruises to Eggsy’s throat. Eggsy’s hands are fisted in the back of his jumper and Eggsy moans every time Merlin moves to suck a new one.

Eggsy’s skin smells like his soap, and it goes straight to Merlin’s cock to think that Eggsy has been surrounding himself in his scent all this time.

The back of Eggsy’s knees hit the bed, and Merlin finally pulls his head back from his neck. Eggsy’s eyes are wide, his lower lip pink and wet from where he’s been biting it. Merlin goes still, overwhelmed by the sight of him. _He’s gorgeous,_ Merlin thinks.

But then Eggsy shifts his hips, their cocks rubbing against each other through their clothes, and Merlin is slammed back into the moment. He steps back and yanks Eggsy’s shirt up and over his head. He only takes a moment to admire the pale skin and smattering of freckles over his chest before he pushes Eggsy back onto the bed.

Eggsy lays there looking up at Merlin. His fingers are buried in the blanket atop the bed, clenched tight as though this is a dream that will shatter if he touches anything.

Merlin takes a deep breath and tucks his hands into his pockets. “I want you to show me how you touched yourself.” His voice is serious as he says it, but through the bond he pushes every ounce of his desire.

In response, Eggsy whimpers and his hips hitch. With an edge of desperation he pulls off his trousers and pants and tosses them onto the floor. As Merlin watches, Eggsy scoots back against the pillows and spreads his legs wide.

With a trembling hand, he wraps his fist around his cock. He squeezes once and then sets a fast pace, dragging up and down his length without any finesse.

As Merlin watches, Eggsy groans in frustration as he tries to find something that will satisfy. His frustration bleeds through the bond, twisting with Merlin’s own heated desire. He wants to climb on the bed and take Eggsy apart, bring him the blessed relief he’s searching for. But he understands this is new for Eggsy, and he’s determined to make the very most of what Eggsy is offering.

He lets Eggsy continue while he slips out of his shirts. He takes his time, never letting his eyes wander from Eggsy’s straining form. He drapes them over the chest at the foot of the bed and teasingly puts his hand over his belt buckle.

“Is that enough? Would you be satisfied coming like that?”

Eggsy glares at him, but there is no true anger behind it. “Fuck, no.” He grips himself tighter and runs his free hand through his hair. “Merlin, please -- _Christ_ \-- I need…more.”

“Tell me, what did you think about when you did this before.”

“You,” Eggsy says. Merlin watches as a drop of precome gathers in his slit, and his mouth waters to taste it.

“What about me?”

“Your cock, the way it looks between your thighs after you get out of a bath. I wondered what it would look like hard.”

Eggsy’s panting, and his cock is an angry red from where is appears and disappears in his fist. His words go straight to Merlin’s cock, and his trousers are suddenly intolerable.

“That’s enough, Eggsy.” Eggsy moans and lets go of himself, his cock slapping against his stomach. His eyes close as he takes in several deep lungfuls of air. Merlin clears his throat and waits until Eggsy’s eyes open again, then begins to undo his belt and flies. “Do you want to see it now?”

The sound that passes over Eggsy’s lips is obscene, and Merlin’s cock twitches in response. “God, yes, please Merlin.”

It only takes him a moment to strip out of his trousers and pants, socks pulled off at the same time. He stands back up and can’t help but preen at the look Eggsy gives him. His eyes are nearly black and his mouth hangs open just a bit. He looks wrecked already.

Merlin takes himself in hand and starts to stroke. He slips the foreskin away from the head of his cock and rubs his thumb over the slit. Eggsy watches him with a look of overwhelming hunger, and Merlin groans from deep in his chest.

“I like watching you touch yourself.”

The admission is said without a hint of shame, and Merlin closes his eyes and lets out a shuddering breath. “I do too. I’ve never had an audience before.”

He opens his eyes again and focuses on Eggsy. The way his tongue peeks out of his mouth and how there is precome pooling on his stomach. It fuels the fire burning in his gut.

Eggsy grins, but it quickly eases into something softer. “Do you... Do you think about me?” The question is asked with a hint of uncertainty, as though Eggsy thinks that Merlin might not have thought of him the same way.

With a final stroke, Merlin lets go of his cock and takes the few steps needed to kneel on the bed between Eggsy’s legs.

“Aye, for months now. I tried so hard not to, but you were always there anyways.” Feather light, Merlin runs his fingertip up from Eggsy’s ankle all the way to the crease where thigh and hip meet. “With your thick thighs and perfect arse.”

Eggsy gives a full body shiver and his hips lift right off the bed in search of friction.

Merlin presses Eggsy back down before he takes his hand away. He bends over Eggsy, caging him between his arms. Their chests and cocks are almost touching, but not quite, only heat radiating between them. Leaning down, he whispers against the shell of Eggsy’s ear, “Let me help you make it better.”

“Yes, Merlin, please.”

Merlin can feel what little control Eggsy’s was maintaining break just seconds before his hands come up to grab Merlin’s hips and pull him down. At the touch of their cocks together, Eggsy sobs and Merlin’s restraint crumbles as well.

He licks down Eggsy’s neck, teeth grazing across his collarbone. As Merlin moves down his body, Eggsy runs his fingers over Merlin’s shoulders, gripping tightly and thrusting up against his stomach.

“Merlin...you said you’d help. Please...I need…”

Merlin sucks a bruise to Eggsy’s chest before looking up at Eggsy. “Oh, pup, I am going to help.”

Swiftly he leans down and flicks his tongue over Eggsy’s nipple. At the sensation Eggsy whimpers and one hand clutches tightly to the back of Merlin’s head.

“Christ...do that again.”

Merlin chuckles to himself and then does as he’s asked, watching as the nub gets hard and his skin glistens with saliva. With his hand he pinches and rolls the other nipple, reveling in the hiss that passes Eggsy’s lips.

“There are many ways to help, and they aren’t all just about your cock.” Eggsy whines and reaches down to try and touch himself, but Merlin bats his hand away. “But perhaps the rest can wait for another time.”

He sits up and reaches over to open the end table, and pulls out a bottle of lube.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, Eggsy. Something Harry definitely should have told you about.”

Popping the cap, Merlin takes Eggsy’s hand and pours a little onto his palm before doing the same to his own. “Now, do what I do.”

He caps the bottle and tosses it to the side before ever so gently taking Eggsy’s cock in his hand.

At the first touch, Eggsy’s lips part and he gasps. Merlin moves in long, slow movements, the liquid quickly warming against his skin. Eggsy’s cock is heavy in his hand, and Merlin wants to find all the ways he can take Eggsy apart. After a few strokes, he pulls back the foreskin and twists his hand just under the head.

Eggsy’s eyes flutter closed and his lube covered hand lays palm up on his thigh, forgotten. Merlin rubs his thumb along the frenulum and watches as a bead of precome drips down to join the mess on Eggsy’s stomach. His cock twitches in response and he desperately needs some help of his own.

“Eggsy…”

Eggsy’s eyes crack open and Merlin uses his free hand to guide Eggsy’s down to his cock. Carefully Eggsy wraps his fingers around Merlin’s length, and he lets out a groan at the sensation.

As soon as Eggsy realizes that he’s finally touching Merlin, he begins mimicking what Merlin is doing to him. There’s not much skill yet, but the desire and yearning Merlin feels coming from Eggsy is enough to make up for it, quickly drawing him to his release.

When Eggsy starts thrusting up into Merlin’s hand, a constant stream of _more_ and _please_ and _Merlin_ falling from his lips, Merlin knows he’s close.

Gently nudging Eggsy’s hand, Merlin lets go of Eggsy just long enough to line up their cocks and wrap his hand around both of them. His fingers are almost long enough to wrap all the way around, but as he starts to stroke them together Eggsy puts his hand over the part Merlin can’t.

It only takes a few more strokes of their joined hands for Eggsy to start coming, head thrown back into the pillows and strangled moan echoing in the room. Merlin stiffens and follows seconds later, Eggsy’s ecstasy reverberating through the bond and pushing him to his own.

When Merlin finally begins to catch his breath, he rolls to his side and pulls Eggsy in close, pressing their foreheads together. For a moment they just rest there, their breaths mingling. But as Merlin looks down at Eggsy’s satisfied smile, he realizes that he has yet to kiss Eggsy properly. Slowly he tilts his head, so their mouths brush together as he speaks.

“May I kiss you?”

Merlin can feel the small smile form on Eggsy’s lips just before he closes the distance between them.

At first it’s nothing more than a gentle press of lips, but gradually Eggsy’s lips part slightly and Merlin seeks entrance. When Eggsy sighs and opens wider, Merlin lets their tongues slowly explore each other.

It’s intimate, more than anything that came before, and Merlin lets himself fall into a each new kiss. He lifts his clean hand to cup Eggsy’s cheek and whispers his love between kisses. In return he feels Eggsy’s love wrap around him and settle into his heart.

Eggsy has completely lost all sense of time, but judging by Merlin’s dopey smile and how he’s made no move to leave the bed yet, or even to let go of him, he’s not the only one who did.

They should at least get up to take a shower, or even better - a bath, but if Merlin isn’t bothered by their stickiness, neither is Eggsy.

It’s hard to focus on anything anyway, with the way Merlin keeps peppering kisses on the length of his shoulders, the way his hands keeps caressing every inch of his skin, not to arouse, but to explore, discover. Eggsy would do the same, if it didn’t mean he had to move from his current position, sitting up against Merlin’s warm chest, safely held between his arms.

He can just about catch his lips in awkward kisses of happiness whenever he turns his head to smile at him, but mostly, he just rubs his nose against his still flushed cheek. It’s new and a closeness he never thought he’d be allowed to have outside of his dreams.

He wonders what their magic looks like now, if it’s as entangled as their limbs are.

He feels like entire forests could spring from them if they wanted and he’s half-tempted to try it. But it seems far too tiring an effort to make in the lazy spell that has fallen on them.

Instead, he lets his hands slide down Merlin’s arms, shivering pleasantly as he remembers their strength when Merlin was gently manhandling him earlier, to still the fingers in their light teasing. Merlin lets him do as he pleases, simply twining their fingers together and Eggsy closes his eyes when a smile is pressed against his temple.

He takes a deep breath, trying to remember how it felt among the yews with the old soul purring against his back all those months ago. He chuckles to himself after a few seconds. It had been peaceful, he had felt _content_ , but with a hint of sadness that has no place in this bed.

 _Their_ bed.

Here, with Merlin, he feels safe and happy, he feels like he belongs.

Like he’s come home.

That only makes what he wants to do easier.

He moves a bit until they’re nearly cheek to cheek and slowly opens his eyes, laughing with delight at Merlin’s awed gasp when the twirls of their combined magic reveal themselves to him.

They look like galaxies, a universe all of itself, of blue, green and gold.

Of love, acceptance and eternity.

Slowly Eggsy raises their hands and amuses them by directing their magic in a merry dance, Merlin joining in his laughter.

The way Merlin looks at their magic, wonderstruck and reverent, is nothing compared to the looks he keeps stealing at his profile, as if he’s even more marvelous than the world they’ve created together. Maybe Eggsy would mind, if only he wasn’t stealing glances of his own.

That’s how they fall asleep, propped up against the headboard, their hands still clasped together, their magic swirling around as if to cradle them close. As if to keep them safe.

 _Yes_ , Eggsy thinks as he finally loses the battle against sleep, _we’ve finally come home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **elletromil's notes:** It's more thank yous than a note really.
> 
> First I want to thank the people's who were enthusiastic about the story or just encouraging while we were writing this, thesilverqueenlady, bouncybrittonie, lady-mephistopheles and agent-eggy especially.
> 
> A huge thank you to Dianyx for accepting to be our test reader and reassuring us with our many worries about the whole story.
> 
> An eternal thank you to hepcatliz without whom the story would just never have seen the light of day.
> 
> And last but not least thank you to Red for accepting to write this with me. She took a huge risk since we both have different writing style and back when we decided that "hey, we wanna do this, but 10k on our own is way too much, let's pair up and write about 5k each, that won't be so bad" (oh how innocent we were) we weren't as close as we are now. But we fell into a pretty organic writing back and forth and I am immensely proud of the universe we built together and that we keep adding to. But seriously Red was the greatest. She did all that google foo and kept us organized, took care of most of the editing and this simply wouldn't be the same story without her and not only of the ideas she brought and the scenes she wrote. So yeah, thank you to the best writing partner I could have asked for :D
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as we enjoyed writing it.
> 
>  **insanereddragon's notes:** This story was something I wanted to write for a while, especially with all the inspiration hepcatliz provided when this was naught but a tiny plot bunny. So I am ever so grateful that when elletromil suggested that 'hey, we could try and write a fic together for the Bang' that we both immediately thought of this 'verse. This fic shown me the joys of writing with a partner (ESPECIALLY the ever talented Elle), and I don't ever want to stop writing with her.
> 
> Elle, thank you so much for making this story something so much better than if I had attempted it on my own. Your writing is simply wonderful, and I can't wait to write with you again. Thank you for being the best.
> 
> Thank you Dianyx for reading this as we wrote. Just getting your reactions and knowing we were on the right path did so much to keep us motivated and positive as we worked.
> 
> And to you, the readers - thank you for taking the time to read this 'little' story of ours. If you ever want to know more about the background and history of this 'verse, please don't hesitate to ask us. We have so many details that didn't make it into this story, and we'd love to share. And don't worry, this isn't the last you'll be seeing of these characters. We have many more stories in mind!

**Author's Note:**

>   
>    
> 


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